Weddings vs. The Killers

Back in early April of this year of Our Lord, I was faced with a small predicament, fairly insignificant to the outside onlooker, but a predicament nonetheless. About a month or two prior to said incident, I, like most other heterosexual males, became “interested” in a female. The person in question is a very likable person and we were acquaintances before “friendly” interested propagated into “temporally” interested. She’s adorable, has a great sense of humor, independently ambitious (I think), but somewhat of a princess…well…she’s probably benignly interested in becoming American royalty, but I was still taken by her. Anyway, we were participating in a weekly to two times weekly rendezvous and regular conversations over the phone both conversationally and textually when our relationship got to a point where she found it appropriate to ask me to attend a wedding with her for a family friend. During this inquiry she deftly pointed out that we would be presenting ourselves as friends at this momentous occasion. Without even a second thought about it, I exuberantly agreed to provide my friendly escorting services.

Maybe about a month before I was to travel to this nuptial rite, I was sitting in my living room with several of my friends and we were talking about a concert that we were excited to rock-out at. Now, this wasn’t just any concert, this was The Killers, possibly the greatest band of our generation, and we were fishing out the details of this show that we’d planned on attending for a several months in advance. During this extremely important discourse, I was asked when I would be going to “the wedding”, and I said, “well it’s on so and so” and they’re like, “you realize of course that’s when The Killers concert is!” Instantaneously I felt the absurd enormity of simultaneous shock and horror as all the blood drained from my face and outer extremities. I had officially made THE blunder to top all blunders; I agreed to go to a wedding where I would certainly be acquainted with no more than one other person when I was supposed to be at my favorite band’s concert with three of my best friends. Like a programmed assassin with no other choice I systematically and instantly executed the only action that seemed and still seems appropriate, I texted my lady friend and told her I would be unable to render my services after all.

I am no idiot, and I was fully aware that this action would elicit possible physically harmful consequences. Well, I might as well have called Zeus himself and asked for the thunder because that is precisely what I got. Needless to say, the subsequent replies were understanding…pause NOT, and she basically told me that she didn’t care to make my acquaintance any longer.

I’d rather not wax philosophical about who was right and what the actual proper course of action would have been (it was taken so there’s really no argument), but I can certainly understand why she would be upset with me. Despite the curtailing of one union, my feelings for The Killers have never been stronger as that show was the finest display of rockmanship I have ever witnessed. I can honestly say that this lady friend at first was missed, but I can also honestly say that I have no regrets because that concert was freakin’ awesome!  ¶ 7:33 AM