|Everything's More Fun In Pigtails!|
|2005-08-03 || The Leto|
# 49. See 30 Seconds to Mars live (and close to the front row so I can drool over Leto) Done, done, and done!
Okay, so we need to talk about The Leto.
I dragged Lucy up to Boston last night to see his band perform, and oh, how pretty he is. Pretty, pretty, pretty. Remember when I contemplated killing him last week? Scratch that. He’s free of the Olsen and he was not wearing any goth makeup. He was just…HOT. But let me backtrack for a second and track our adventure. Shall we? (Don't worry, there are pictures below.)
The show was at 7 last night, so Lucy and I met up after work to do the drive into Boston. We met up at 4:30, hoping to beat the worst traffic. We wanted to get there a little early to secure a good standing place as Leto’s band was first (They were opening for Taproot and Chevelle). After a brief detour and some wrong turns (Hey, we are talking about ME in Boston), we found our way to the club and saw a few people already waiting outside. The line wasn’t too bad, so we headed off for food over at the McDonald’s around the corner in Chinatown. Now, let me first explain about the outfit situation last night. When going to see Jared Leto, one may want to try to wear something a bit more noticeable, so I had on this PLUNGING red cami top (and my good pushing up-and-out bra – oh, the illusions it creates!) and my “going out” jeans with black pointy stilettos. In hindsight, the stilettos were probably not the best choice, but who am I to argue with fashion? The situation called for pointy stilettos. You have to do it. Anyway, THANK YOU, Boston for deciding to make rickety brick sidewalks in the theater district, complete with scattered grates. Yes, they are so conducive to people who, you know, GET DRESSED UP TO GO TO THE THEATER. Gah. I think my feet started to hurt about two minutes into the walk down to Chinatown. Speaking of which, I was very intrigued by the Chinese McDonald’s. Lots of Oriental flair everywhere. I was less intrigued when I used their bathroom and encountered a fly the size of my head flying and buzzing everywhere. I panicked for a moment when I lost sight of him, but could hear him buzzing close by. I just prayed I would get out of there before he decided to take a jaunty flight down to my nether regions. Luckily, he did not. Then Lucy and I made the harrowing brick sidewalk trek back and parked ourselves in line outside the club. We got there around 6 and thankfully the line hadn’t gotten too much longer, so we were only about thirty people back. That’s when we met Greg.
Ah, Greg. Greg came up right behind us in line when we sat down (my feet thank you, side of building) and immediately just started talking our ears off. And Greg? Was adorable. He just talked on and on for the next hour and had us giggling and blushing. Oh, Greg, how we love you so. He was there to see Chevelle, and he thought we were kidding when we told him we were pretty much only there for Jared Leto. I don’t kid about The Leto, Greg. But it was nice, we had some entertainment to make the hour outside fly by. There were some high school girls in front of us who admitted that they finally broke down and bought tickets when they heard that Jared Leto was in the third band, because they loved him so much after seeing him in Requiem for a Dream. I was disturbed by this for many reasons: These girls were kind of innocent. Very young and naïve, looking to be cool – you know the type. What in God’s name are they doing seeing Requiem for a Dream? There is a reason that the MPAA wanted to give that an NC-17 rating, and I’m not thinking it’s all for the...you know, the scene with Jennifer Connelly. My brother maintains that it’s for the overall disturbance that a viewer gets from watching the movie. Which may be true, as I make my friends watch that movie simply to disturb them. (It doesn’t bother me, but then again, I’m weird.) My brother compares it to A Clockwork Orange, saying it’s one of those movies that you only have to see once, because after that it is PERMANENTLY etched in your brain. (I’ve seen it 6 times). Lucy doesn’t get why they would see Jared in that movie and love him from that. Has no one told these girls about My So-Called Life? Get these girls some DVDs, stat. THAT is what they should be swooning about. (Although I maintain that outside of MSCL, he looked the hottest in Switchback, a movie which I believe 4 people saw.) Where was I going with all of this? I don’t know now – all I know is that those girls should not be watching that movie and that Lucy’s McDonald’s gave her a stomachache. (I told her it was the MSG that they added.) Oh, and my feet hurt. Damn stilettos.
At 7o’clock, they finally opened the doors and let us in. God bless the Will Call people, because that allowed us to zoom right in with our pre-purchased tickets and get a better spot to stand in. We ended up in the second row of people right smack in front of the middle of the stage. I kept nudging Lucy and pointing out that Jared’s microphone was about 6 feet away from us. My feet started to cry out in agony, but I assured them that the show would be starting soon and then it would all be over shortly thereafter. Well, suffice it to say, I unknowingly lied to my shoes. The tickets? They lied. 7:00 show, they crowed. Well, the show didn’t start until 8. Standing in those shoes for over an hour? NOT fun. We just stood there, watching the road crew test everything over and over. By 7:45, we started getting punchy.
LUCY: This is 30 Seconds to Nothing, is what it is.
PAM: My feet! They’re all red.
LUCY: 30 Seconds to Gangrene! Hey, where’s Greg?
PAM & LUCY: Ahhh, Greg.
PAM: My feet!!
By 7:50, I yelled out, “FRIG IT!” and took off my shoes. Oh, the sweet, sweet relief. Thankfully, I had a short girl in front of me, so my view wasn’t obstructed now that I was about 4 inches shorter. But the removal of the shoes led to my cleavage becoming level with the ends of the hair of the girl in front of me. It was all long and curly and kept going down my shirt and tickling me. Lucy got a good laugh out of that one. It was almost enough to make me put my shoes back on. Almost. At 8 o’clock, the show finally started. Jared came out and we caught a brief glimpse of The Eyes before he stood with his back to the audience while the song started up.
PAM: Turn around!
LUCY: He’s got no bum!
PAM: Look at how skinny…ooh, Mama like!
LUCY: He’s a little peanut! What’s he, about 5’8”, 140? Who woulda thunk it?
PAM: I just want him to turn around!! What is this foolishness?
Then he finally turned around to start the song.
PAM: OH MY GOD.
LUCY: Holy crap!
PAM: (mouth fully agape now) …
LUCY: (mouth also agape) …
LUCY: …Greg who?
Just as we were coming out of our stunned silence stupor, some asshat decided to try to start a mosh pit right next to us. No one else was into it, but he just kept pushing his way all over town. He knew all the words to the songs, and he looked German, so Lucy chalked it up to him being like the Germans who know all the words to every David Hasselhoff song – he was just a 30 Seconds to Mars fan instead of Hasselhoff (good choice). Also, apparently Germany hasn’t found out that moshing is kind of over. Especially at a show like the one we were at. Dude, you’re in a club where everyone is trying to watch the show. This isn’t Lollapalooza. Chill. We were able to hold him off from us for most of the show (thank you, Lucy’s butt-sticking-out maneuver), so it wasn’t too bad. Well, until he started a big push towards the end of the set that sent me about 3 feet over, me yelling the whole time, “I have no shoes on!!!” Luckily for me, there was a cute boy who pulled me over and protected me. Thank you, cute boy. I also was able to put my shoes back on and enjoy the rest of the show relatively pain-free.
But let’s talk about the show and The Leto for one moment, shall we? I love almost all of his hair choices, but the short one like he was sporting REALLY does me in. The band was very good, (even with a too-short 40 minute set) and he was just, just HOT. And pretty. And he screamed a lot, which was the aforementioned hot. Then he got sweaty. Again, HOT. Then he decided to step across security and walk himself on the railing in front of the crowd where he ended up standing directly above me. Good thing I’m not a grabber, Leto. (And my hands were full with camera and shoes)
The great thing about a smaller venue like that and being so close is that the band members can actually see you. Leto? He saw me. He looked at me a number of times during the show, especially when I was singing along to one song. Those eyes looking at me? There are no words, people. The funniest moment of the night came when Jared asked the crowd to be quiet for a second and some guy yelled out, “JORDAN CATALANO!” and Jared responded, “Don’t be stupid!” Hee!
So all in all, it was a great show and VERY much worth the waiting and the possible gangrene and the crazy moshing guy. I got closer to The Leto than I thought I would, and I spent most of the show with Lucy, gazing up in awe at the prettiness of his little face. Good Lord, that boy is hot. I also blatantly ripped one of their promo posters off the wall on our way out. The guys at the door were a little puzzled when we informed them that we weren’t coming back in for the next 2 bands. Oh, we got what we came for. As Lucy put it on the ride home, “That was 30 Seconds to Me Taking Your Pants Off.” Word.
Can I put that back on my list so I can go again?