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Welcome to the life and chronicles of My Jersey Boys and me, B (the only girl who hangs out with them). Our original mission was to prove that not all of Jersey is obsessed with GTL. Now it's kind of become the place where we share our random thoughts, ridiculous stories, regular quote updates, and maybe a picture or video here and there. There's always something going on...

Love from,
The one and only,
B

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The Basement Show

Posted by The one and only "B"... on 10:15 PM
CHAR'S POV:

This epic saga to see J’s show can only be compared to Harold and Kumar’s adventures. Prior to heading down, J had been texting TK and I to spread the word around. Unfortunately, due to blanket and several highly recommended hits of nature’s best, I lost my phone and pretty much useless. Flash forward like 5 hours and were about to pile into B’s car to head over to New Brunswick to see J’s show and find R. This whole time, B was under the impression that the show was going to start at 9. However, J had sent a text to me which I never read because I was phoneless. Apparently, the show would start at 8:30, not over exaggerating, but B flips the switch and starts panicking…not OMG were going to be late, more like I’m going to cut off your balls Char and feed them to you…I was scared. (Note from B: I never said that. It was more the former rather than the latter) She might have fractured her arm, but anytime B gets angry, her balls drop and she gets insane strength. ***Side note: If B and I were to ever have kids, they would rule the world though sheer fashion sense and brute strength.*** So we arrive at Rutgers, where B parks pretty close to the show, but a mile from J’s house (Also, two blocks is not a mile). We come to the front door and find a sign saying “Packages in back” and so we head to the back of the house. At this point, I don’t know why I was leading considering I had never been to Rutgers before. On our way to the back, we feel the vibrations from the basement show and can only assume it was going to be an awesome show. As we reach the back door, I knock, however B slams me to the ground and has her way with me…just kidding, she pins me by the throat and says “just go in.” (Also, untrue.) So we’re in the house and walking down to the basement where we see J. J waves to acknowledge our presence just before a gigantic mosh pit decided to happen right there. Initially it was B who was getting the brunt of it, but eventually I stepped up and replaced myself in the line of fire. B, being my shining white knight saves me several times from the insane rockers. Not that I blame them, the band was jammin’ pretty hard and made you want to…punch a clown. During this whole jam session, B starts feeling herself and wondering why she was all wet…turns out the pipe was dripping water all over her. (You bastard....*laughs*). It was quite funny how she couldn’t decide between choosing to be wet or being subject to mosh pit incidents. J had on some neon green strings and from his recollection of the night, he didn’t have hard parts to play, so he was able to rock on with his fellow band mates. I also distinctly recall how J had two hours of sleep and had been smoking since the crack of dawn…overall, he performed admirably, although I was waiting for him to smash his bass on someone’s head. Anyway, after the show, J took us back upstairs to hang out and talk, mostly apologizing to B about miscommunications and all that jazz. R arrived fashionably late regaling us with humorous stories of the previous nights. In summation, this whole trip made me wonder why I attended a pretentious school when I could have been in basements with strangers arm-wrestling for beer.

TK's POV:

A few nights ago B, Char, and myself all went up to New Brunswick to visit our friends J, and R.  On our way down there was a a little miscommunication with the details and we found ourselves calling R, which J told me to do, when we were looking for the place.  I talked to R and was already under the impression that R was there so i didn't bother asking him and so we drove on.  We found a somewhat decent parking spot and started on foot towards the house.  B called R again and we found out that R had just woken up so we told him to hurry and continued.

So we get to the house in New Brunswick and we walk up the front porch to the door.  There was a sign on the door that said "please take packages to the back" so we assumed that meant people too.  Loud thunderous rock and roll blared from the basement so we headed around back to see if there was another door.  We walked through the alley between houses and it was around here that a bad feeling suddenly struck me.  I'm not sure what it was, maybe it was the dark alley.  Nonetheless, we walked up to the back door where Char proceeded to knock.  No answer.  Finally, B takes charge and says "Char, just open the damn door." and walks straight through the door leading the way inside.  Char and B got down without a problem, but this random crowd of girls blocked my path to the basement steps with one of them being particularly fascinated by her own shoe.  Again, i don't know but she was in my way so i took a few steps through their circle and proceeded downstairs.

The music was loud and beyond awesome.  Cool fact, our buddy J was jammin' on that bass.  Anyway, the band itself was great.  However, a small mosh pit broke out in front of us and several people started getting knocked around including B who's possibly fractured arm is in a sling.  B was on the far right, Char in the middle, and i was all the way on the left where absolutely nothing was going on.  B got the brunt of it, at one point being sent flying up against the far wall and crashing into some random chick that spilled her beer on her.  At this point i was a little more than concerned seeing as how B, being the little badass that she is, drove us up there in the first place, and i could easily have seen that moment as being game over.  However,Char fished her out and she finished the show like a champ.

After the show we followed J upstairs and the three of us waited in the kitchen for him when all of a sudden we heard a familiar voice from behind us saying "Guess who just got here?"  We all turned around to see R approaching us.  The three of us exclaimed "R" (we shouted his name, not the letter R...durr) as he stepped into our little circle.  Great entrance... bad timing for the show.

B's POV:

So, I'm gonna skip the part of the story where we were driving down to New Brunswick. All I know is, we had Blanket for company, and I was stressed out as fuck driving in New Brunswick. All while chain smoking. It's my stress reliever, don't you judge me. Tk, Char and I found a place to park close to the show, which was lucky because we were running late. I made sure to write down the names of the side streets, because I know I'm not going to remember that later. On the way there, I called R to find out if he would meet us outside. I'm not exactly a fan of walking into random peoples houses. That's when R informed me that he just woke up, and didn't even know where the show was. I laughed, and told him where to meet us.

Luckily I know my way around New Brunswick now, since I have been there a few times. Tk and Char, on the other hand, not so much. We walked up the stairs on the porch and stood there for an awkward fifteen seconds, because no one wanted to open the door. I pointed out the sign on the door, and said, "Maybe we should check the back door." I was kind of hoping the back door would just be open. We walked around the side of the house, that TK mentioned was very much like an alleyway, when Char said to me, "It sounds like the band is in the basement." My reply, "Guess we better find the fucking basement." I'm starting to notice my swearing has become more frequent. Interesting.

We made our way to the back door, when TK had a Star Wars moment and said, "I have a bad feeling about this." I felt the same way, but it had more to do with the fact that I was just about to walk right in to someone's house. Char made it to the door first, and just stood there for a second before starting to knock. I walked up behind him, and said, "Char, just open the damn door." I guess I was in a take charge kind of mood. That, or I was wearing a dress and I didn't want to stand in the cold all night. So we opened the door, and walked right into the house. Of course, there's a group of people just standing there staring at us. Char took the approach of acknowledging them, and saying, "Hey, how's it going." Me, on the other hand, have had much practice with avoiding people. Thank you high school. You taught me that if you walk in like you know where you're going, and stare straight ahead like you're supposed to be there, no one will say shit.

I made my way carefully down the stairs, because my right arm is in a sling, and I can't hold on tight to the banisters. I know what you're thinking, "B, going to a basement show with your arm in a sling... Probably not the best idea." I knew what I was getting into. I made my way towards the front with Char and TK following behind me. We had to spread out and make our own line, because there wasn't much room. Like TK said, J was jammin on the bass. His new band was pretty awesome. Most of the guys at the concert were head-banging and moshing, which I would have totally participated in, had I not fucked up my arm. In my opinion, it isn't a good concert if you don't go home with a few bruises... I have plenty of stories about that, but for right now, I'm just going to discuss this night. At first I was on the outskirts of the mosh pit, occasionally getting bumped into. Behind me, two guys decided to get into a fight, and one of them tried to tackle the other. Which sent people flying. I had managed to get out of the way, but Char was getting sucked into the mosh pit. And by sucked in, I mean, he was falling backwards into the mosh pit. He had reached his hand out to me, and I attempted to grab him with my left, but it's functionally retarded. Eventually I pulled him out though.

Things calmed down for a little bit after that, because the offending parties went off to get another beer. We were able to really listen to the show, without fear of injury, after that. Then they came back, which was great in some ways, because everyone was getting really excited about the band. I just wish they didn't have to tackle each other. I was getting shoved around at this point, and instead of moving from my position, I tried to push back. Don't fuck with a one armed girl. If it comes down to you having to get hurt, so my arm won't get hurt, you're going down bitch. The only problem was... they were all bigger than me. And when one big guy goes to tackle another big guy, and you're standing in the cross-hairs.... Well, you end up flying into a table. Then, as if getting thrown into a table wasn't enough, I got thrown sideways into a girl with a full cup of beer. My only thought after that was, "I sure hope I don't get pulled over, because I am gonna reek of beer." Thankfully, things calmed down again, and we were able to finish the show without incident and in a happy place.

The only problem was, R texted me right before J's band started their last song. I tried to warn him.

At the end of the show, we decided to follow J upstairs. During this process, I turned to Char and said, "Man, I smell like beer. And not even the good kind." Which was great, because someone else heard me, and I heard this kid laugh and say, "You know when the beer doesn't smell right, it can't be good." I finally made it to the kitchen, where the boys were all standing, when from behind me I heard, "Guess who just got here?" R had made entrance history with that comment. That is all. Well, except for the fact that R had to bring up how I hurt my arm. It haunts me. I've just come to the point where I let people assume how it happened. If you want to see the whole conversation, I've posted it on our twitter. http://twitter.com/#!/myjerseyboys .... In my defense, it wasn't just some ordinary step stool. It's not like I couldn't reach something on the top shelf. I'm tall enough to reach that shit. No, I was physical therapy for my knee that I fucked up in a car accident. Seriously, bad shit happens to me. I am Murphy's Law: Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time. I'm surprised people even bother to ask me how I get hurt at this point. Alright, that's enough.

Have a good night all!
B

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