Shelley invited me to the Rock the Bells concert yesterday, which was all the way out in Baltimore county. Since I pride myself on being impulsive, I decided to go. Besides, I was having a kickass weekend with Shelley so far. What could a trip out to this random concert hurt?KRS-One is there. He's doing what KRS what KRS does. Tech N9ne's there... haven't seen him in a little bit. It's kinda cool. Big Boi performs...not mad at that. The Roots beat it up, Common kills it and Busta Rhymes loses his damn mind.
So I'm having a great time... but I'm hungry. I'm hungry and I need to eat. As I'm walking I happen to finally notice the lineup for the concert and I notice that Slaughterhouse is listed. I'm thinking to myself wait a minute... not my new favorite group... featuring two of who I believe to be the most underrated MC's in recent hip-hop history. Joe Budden and Royce Da 5'9".
I immediately start tweeting Joe...(@mousebudden on Twitter, one of the very FEW celebrities I follow on Twitter, who sucks on responses, lol.) asking him if he's performing at the Merriweather show. I had to have tweeted him about four times, in between walking to the BBQ shack and getting Shelley a margarita. So I'm totally harrassing her about why Joey and Royce are underated and why I wish they'd get their turn in the limelight and how Slaughterhouse is going to kill it... when I decide that this BBQ sandwich alone won't cut it. So we walk down a little hill to hit the Boardwalk Fries and I'm sitting there totally worried because I'm wondering if I missed their set or not. I'm biting fingernails, waiting on the jerkoff in front of me to hurry up because I wanna get back to my seat in case Slaughterhouse goes on. I'm still tryin to tell Shelley about how great they're tracks are when the jerkoff moves and I catch a glimpse of his arm...which surprisingly has the same tattoos that Joey has. He heads to the condiment table and I oddly follow him over, as Shelley watches me in a strnge bewilderment. I approach him silently as he's drowning chicken tenders in ketchup- because I don't wanna yell his name out just in case that's not him. I walk up on him and I think I think I kinda startle him as he turns to me and gives me this look that without a doubt perfectly displays his annoyance and says, "What the fuck do you want?"
As talkative as I can be, for 5 seconds I was at a loss for words... and he gives me the strangest "fuck off" stare and mumbles, "Dude, chicken tenders" as he leaves the table. Royce walks over and then my words come back...
"Hey... when ya'll going on?" I ask feeling incredibly stupid.
"Around 7...yeah he's pretty hungry"
I walk back over to Shelley, defeated... and she gives me a comforting hug. When we return to our seat, I take a look at my twitter and notice how coincidental that I'm tweeting how I wanna see Slaughterhouse, then immediately after I tweet:
TonyTescadero: Yo, @mousebudden Sorry for running up on you at the ketchup table. I just really respect ya'lls work.
There was a big screen over the stage you could text messages to, and Shelley made my day by offering to text the scren: "Don't mess with Joe Budden when he's eating chicken tenders" but it never showed up on screen...sadly.
The end result however, is that I sat in my chair eagerly awaiting Slaughterhouse, and at exactly 7:05 PM a friend of Shelley's who was there comes up and says "Yo... Slaughterhouse just killed it on the other stage"
Sigh...
I guess I'll just have to wait for the album.
"Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed." -Alexander Pope
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