Dear Camo Clad Band Parent,
Believe me when I say I completely understand how a middle school band concert can be considered a date. Hordes of people with questionable personal hygiene crammed into a barely ventilated, poorly designed school auditorium with screaming toddlers, disgruntled tweens, doting grandparents and plain old freaks is such a turn on. The $5 candy bars being peddled by pimply faced, oily haired band geeks at the metal folding table outside the door screams romance. The awkward, silent duel for the shared arm rest creates silent tension. Strange butts doing the tango in your face as they try to find a seat in the middle of the freaking row because all you asshats were too selfish and to move to the middle is sexy. A little PDA isn't a bad thing-though I do pass judgement on your choice of location. The neck massage that turned into a sensual rubdown was a bit much for the Monday night school crowd.The nuzzling that followed was not something that anyone should have to witness. EVER. Please save it for the trailer park.
Dear Overly Affectionate Mom,
I applaud you for making a relationship with your teenage son a priority- even if he is a space hogging, loud talking chump who used a smidge too much Axe body spray. Kudos to you for dragging his ass to his little brother's band concert. I am sure he was thrilled by your idea. It was fantastic how you included him in the conversation with your former co-worker. The way you rambled on and on and on and on repeating embarrassing stories about him is sure to strengthen your mother-son bond. When you continually rubbed his neck and ruffled his unruly hair causing him to kick me in the shins and lurch into my already cramped personal space I was positively delighted. His knuckle cracking combined with your over zealous cough drop sucking added to the band concert ambiance. Thanks for such a stellar experience. It's a good thing I arrived early to get a great seat.