Saturday morning we awoke at Super Ghetto Motel to the sounds of people yelling at their kids (and their kids yelling back). Did I mention it was an extended stay hotel? So lots of families who most likely lived there were wandering around making themselves at home, smoking on our balcony, and having fights. The room was stiflingly hot, so we’d left the windows open (they only opened about six inches) and the smoke drifted in. I tried to close the window but found someone sitting on our window ledge with his butt wedged in the six-inch opening.
I finally dragged my sister out of bed and we went to meet some friends on Beale Street for lunch. After wandering around and buying almonds, band-aids, and flip-flops at Walgreens—that’s right, I bought my shoes at a pharmacy—we found a place to eat. My sister’s fiancé met us at Silky O’Sullivan’s, where we’d eaten the previous year as well. We got ribs. Oh my wow. They were so tender the meat fell off the bone when I tried to pick it up. I met up with a friend from back home and a few of her friends, too, but they left after lunch to hang out on Beale. My sister, her fiancé, and I went down to Tom Lee Park for some more music. A little rain for a few minutes, but nothing like the torrential, siren-inducing downpour of last year.
The bands were running late and we made it in time to see half the Sick Puppies show. Afterwards, my old friend from Junior High texted me and said they were there, too. We’d pushed up front for Hinder, but thanks to a pink snakeskin cowboy hat waving in front of us, my old friend and his new friends were able to find us. I hadn’t seen him in about fifteen years, so it was crazy to catch up again (Thank you, Facebook, for bringing old friends together haha).
We watched Hinder and they were, well, Hinder. Same as always. I didn’t know most of their new songs, but they played a pretty good mix of old and new, and I knew all the old ones. Then we all went down to Mumford and Sons. We sat on the grass, ate, drank, hung out, etc. Ryan had his uncle and friend with him, and we all chilled and listened to the band, which was awesome.
After Mumford, we went back to the previous stage for Ludacris. Wow. What a madhouse. The stage was surrounded by an ocean of people. I swear I haven’t shrunk since last year, but it seemed like everyone in Memphis this weekend was 6 foot 6! I couldn’t even see the stage. We were far back, and as far as shows go, that was the most disappointing of the weekend. He played about 30 seconds to two minutes of each song. Hard to get your dance on when the songs keep stopping abruptly halfway through. Ryan and one of his friends stuck with us and we worked our way up for Ke$ha, but again, we couldn’t see the stage even though we were close. Part of the time she went up onto a platform, but the rest of the time I could have been listening to a CD, since I couldn’t see her at all. But I was pretty impressed that she didn’t lip-synch and actually sung all her songs. It was a fun show, complete with lots of pervy comments from the guys I was with.
After the show, we all decided to call it a night again, and went home. Since we only had one bed, I was exiled to the smoke-permeated, scratchy, midget couch where I slept with my legs dangling off the side or sticking over the arm. Totally worth it, though. The bad hotel is part of the whole experience. Last year it smelled like Indian food. The year before, the shower wall had hairs clinging to it and the table fell over when I put my purse on it.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
