How are you? Nursing another hangover? Really. That’s pretty surprising considering you only had fourteen Long Island Ice Teas last night. Well I’m sure you’ll be up and dancing again in no time.
Which reminds me, the reason why I’m writing you is to remind you that I’m seeing Franz Ferdinand this weekend. I’m going to be wearing a blue Hawaiian print shirt, and I’ll be standing about four people deep from the stage. I hope you can find me—I don’t want a repeat of The Ting Ting’s show where it took three songs to find me. I’m not sure what I’d do if I didn’t have you stepping all over my toes—and flipping your hair at my face.
I might have to…gulp…actually watch the band perform! We wouldn’t want that, now would we?
Are you still smoking? What a silly question, of course you are. I hope you remember wear something flame-retardant, because I will. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the Vampire Weekend incident. Speaking of Vampire Weekend, are you still dating that guy I saw you with? You know, the frat-boy-looking dude with the up-turned collar and the constipated look on his face? I think you two make a cute couple—you “dance” all over my feet, sometimes spilling beer all over my shirt…and he just stands there with both hands in his pockets. Adorable.
Anyway, if you’re still together you should bring him to the Franz Ferdinand show! I’d hate to see a band without getting a nasty look whenever your gyrating ass brushes up against my hand.
Your Fellow Concertgoer,
Jason
