Thursday, November 8, 2007

Sweet, sweet music

Holy moly.

I'm so sore.
So freaking... sore.
And deaf.
And tired.

Was it all worth it?

Hell fucking yeah!

However, if I were asked
Yo, AnoMALIE, who would you rather hang out with, a bunch of fresas or nacos?

I will hands down scream back "Nacosssss!!"

I hate snobs... and Mexican snobs take it to a whole new level.
They're downright intolerable.
Their fake ass accent, their constant, purposely-made spelling errors (I swear, I see another bastard write with a K in place of a Q, I'm gonna shank a bitch!), their putting down of people from other MEXICAN STATES.
Motherfuckers... you're still Mexican, understand, anyone who makes fun of Mexicans is still making fun of YOU. You're included in that put down... even if you are from Mexico City... it's still in Mexico... and it's probably dirtier than any place in Durango because so much fucking criminality rules the g.damn streets there.
Shut the fuck up already and quit ruining my concert experience.

The worst part came when on the screens where people can text in their messages, someone put:
"Y arriba Durango!"
And the crowd booed.
I really wanted to spit in people's faces when I saw that.

While I adore the music I listen to... a lot of the people who supposedly "listen" are a bunch of fucks.
I hate them.
I don't know if people in the states will ever experience anything similar... because I don't really see such a pronounced "class" system in play here.

Anyway, on with the concert.
So, there were a ton of people... but we were in our group of seventeen 19-24 year olds... all from Durango (much to the dismay of the bastard fresas from Mexico city).
We befriended a couple of Chilangos while we made line (that went all throughout the casino... it was a nasty mess).
The dudes asked where we were from.
We said Vegas.
They said "No, I mean, your roots."
Oh... we're all from Durango.

What was their response?
Really? Damn, you guys are so light-skinned. Parecen Gringas.

Us: Umm... well, we were born in Vegas... all of us... our parents are from Durango... we just visit the place every summer... so technically, we are gringas.


So here we had a group of "fresas" surprised that we came from such a... "hick" state in Mexico... as if people from Durango are still running around with bows and arrows, warpaint on their faces, dark as hell from being in the sun all day. They act like people outside of Mexico City can't go out and get an education (I say that because it surprised the hell out of these guys when all the females in my group informed them we were all in college. Three of us in a science field. Were any of their "high class" asses in college? Nope. Not one. Hence why I think the class system with Mexicans is a bunch of bullshit).

Anyway, one guy in particular from this group I couldn't shake off all night.
I thought I was safe when he left my side to go get a drink... but no... he came back and stood directly in front of me, in front of the railing I was standing against.
He kept asking question... so many fucking questions.
It got to the point where I started giving him my family's genealogy... and we took it way back to when my family was still Spanish (three generations ago).

He constantly brought up the fact that he was surprised so many pretty girls came from the state of Durango, how he was surprised that we had light complexions (racism? I think so. He doesn't know I'm light because I don't see the sun), and how great it was to see we didn't all have the "naco accent people from that part have, no offense."
Frustrating.

You know what was more frustrating?? How he'd constantly hold my hand throughout the night.
People from Durango are nacos? Give me a break, fool! Can I have my hand back??

I'd be too into the musical act to get too rude on him... I'd just pull my hands back, without making any sort of eye contact, and I'd kick once in a while (I'd be damned if he was going to touch any other part of my body).
I ended up sneaking out during one of my favorite songs from the last band (Enanitos Verdes) without saying a word to him (after promising I'd give him my cell number--I made the fatal mistake of whipping out my cell phone during an interlude while in his presence-- after Enanitos were done).

However, I wasn't the one who had it worst out of the chicks... nope, not by a long shot.
Eveyone else got harassed worse than I did... except for the one girl who went with her boyfriend.
My little sister, for instance, had this one weirdo that was about 38 push his crotch into her butt as she was bent over on the railing trying to rest her feet.
That even pissed me off, making me scream "What the fuck is your problem, pendejo?!" while pushing on him (he was a few inches shorter than me, so I wasn't scared about pushing the jerk away).

Many more things along those lines occured from 7-1:30 AM, so it's unnecessary to get in to all the details.
There were also a lot of people we bumped into that we're semi-related to... but we tried our hardest to ignore (because really, do you want some person talking to you about "We don't see each other enough! We should really get together and do something!" while you're trying to scream your heart out to the first time Hombres G sings "Te Quiero" in Las Vegas in their 25 year career? Hell no. Hell fucking no! Shut the fuck up, and let me enjoy this!).

Anyway... I'd definitely do this again.
For sure.

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