LXXVIII: More "Music" (If That's What You Call It)

I managed to avoid having to attend a concert featuring Goo Goo Dolls and Matchbox Twenty by instead sending Jim as part of his punishment for . . . something . . .

Better him than me being handled by the boy.

Not even sure what a "goo goo doll" is . . .

This meant, however, I was unable to escape having to attend the next outing, which consisted of a man named Gavin DeGraw and bands known as The Script and Train. (We've seen that last one before. A number of times.)

Oh, but before we get into that . . . First we went for tea and dim sum. Specifically it was the pork buns The American was looking for. Because she'd had a dream about them the night before.

"Gallifreyan" pork buns and tea. (Long story.)

And then we of course had to eat something sweet. For no good reason.

Remains of a cupcake.

I'd say I was examining the scene of the crime—that of the disappearing cupcake—but seeing as John appears to be using his scarf as a napkin . . . Well, and I had half. It was tasty.

Then we walked down to the America's Cup area. The concert was to be played in the Pavilion there, but since we still had a lot of time, we stopped in at the sports bar. The American has a new favorite drink now, thanks to the attentive bartender (Brian) with the blue eyes and Australian accent. (What's that, John? No, I am most certainly not jealous. Yes, even though we stayed in her bag the entire time.)

Anyway, unable to pick something from the drinks menu, The American told Brian she wanted something sweet. (Yes, John, you might have detected some derision there.) He asked her alcohol preference, which I feel he should have been able to deduce would be rum, then made her something called a "Caribbean Buck." She took her time nursing it, I must say. And then went on to have a Coca-Cola and some pork belly sliders. *sniff*

Finally, after lingering so long, we went (a) to shop and buy an America's Cup shirt featuring the British flag (grudging approval), and (b) into the Pavilion to settle for the concert (but only after buying a hoodie and a t-shirt). We had good seats, sixth row. She's very spoiled, you know.

Notice my attempt to escape . . .
John, meanwhile is quite content.

And then noise and lights happened. She wrote about it here. And if you follow my Twitter, you will have read some of my thoughts as it happened. There was the one guy, then the skinny Irish boys, then Train (again) . . . A long night, and not even the kind I enjoy.

What's that, John? What kind of long nights do I enjoy? I think you know the answer to that.