I am officially a horrible mother.
Mr.Q and I went out to Holly Cole with the VSO last night and, not only did I enjoy it, I was looking forward to it. I was looking forward to abandoning my child with a willing co-worker-turned-babysitter, dressing up [full makeup!] and heading downtown to the theatre for jazz and symphony.
And, being Holly Cole and the VSO, it rocked. This, despite the asshole sitting behind me who insisted on tapping in time on the back of my seat [I let it go…with a glare at intermission], whacked the back of my head with his jacket when he first sat down and chatted and giggled with his [
skanky] girlfriend throughout the show [he giggled like a ten year old girl].
What did end up bothering me was the fellow seated next to me. Now, on occasion, I have been known to whoop and holler a little more than the average concert attendee [U2], as has Mr.Q [Chantal Kreviazuk], but this guy literally only clapped a maximum of five times per song. I counted. He did not participate in the encore. He did not clap when one of the musicians did a solo – even the prompted ones. In short, while he may have payed his ticket and even seemed to enjoy the show, he came off as a total jerk. I suspect that made me clap and cheer and enjoy the concert a little more.
At least until it was time to head home and I realised that I had been babyless for four hours. And had enjoyed myself.
How much karma to I need to build up now?