will blog for tickets, or why i fail at life

In a rare moment, I'm questioning the status of my genius today. While I usually surprise and delight even myself with my pithy quips and observations based on total assumptions and snap judgments, I found out this weekend that my chosen modus operandi for living life -- getting by on vague generalizations while waxing prophetic as if I'm onto something -- has finally failed me. See, I'm in a pickle (metaphorical, not literal...gross).

When I first found out MGMT was going to play the 9:30 Club on July 28 -- just one day before my birthday -- I got all giddy with excitement. I thought about buying tickets ahead of time, but being a destitute journalist, I didn't want to get burned by the service charges. Plus, the show is scheduled for a Monday night. And this is DC, after all, so I figured I'd just buy them at the door. Plus, do enough people even listen to MGMT in this city to fill the venue? DC really is more of a Dave Matthews town, no? Well, yes. Yes it is. However, despite that, it seems my other asshole assumptions went horribly awry.

First, apparently not everyone is as destitute as I am.

Second, apparently Monday night is not as big a deterrent to as many people as I thought.

And third, apparently there are enough people into MGMT here that the venue will be filled.

I found this out this weekend while doing my weekly perusal of 9:30's site, trolling for new shows to add to The Anti DC schedule, when I noticed the seven sh*ttiest letters I'd ever seen: SOLD OUT.

Son of a goddamn bitch. Perhaps I underestimated the drawing power of MGMT, or perhaps I underestimated the amount of people with good enough taste to want to go to this show. Or perhaps (most likely), I'm just retarded. Did I mention that this would've all occurred just a day before my birthday, too? I did? Well, it's true.

So, if you have tickets and you go, make sure to do a little robot dance for me. I'll be at home. Crying. Alone. In the dark. Listening to Weekend Wars on my sh*tty laptop speakers. Blowing out a single candle on a stale cupcake. And wishing I was you. *sigh*

Is The Anti DC pulling at your heartstrings yet? Do you feel compelled to give up your tickets yet? No?

Well, then I'll see you in hell.

(But seriously, if you know of any extra tickets floating around, let your e-friend know and let's take care of busine$$.)