Guys….I don’t know when it happened. But all of a sudden I became old. Like overnight. And it’s all because of Bey and Jay.
It happened when the reality of my boyfriend’s one year anniversary gift hit me, like a ton of bricks. He is so thoughtful and caring and wonderful, and put thought into getting me the perfect gift to commemorate our first year together. He surprised me a while ago with tickets to Beyonce and Jay-Z’s On the Run Tour.
In theory – absofuckinglutely! In (my) real life, not so much.
Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE both of them. This would be my third time seeing Jigga in a year and I totally dance JUST like Beyonce (in my head). As I have referenced before, I am part gangsta. I love rap, hip-hop and a good slow jam. I used to twerk when it was called booty dancing, first on the bar mitzvah circuit as a guest, then on the bar mitzvah circuit as a paid dancer, then in the hallows of Baja Beach Club in Coconut Grove (RIP Baja and your bartenders who were always happy to serve underage patrons). My twerking legacy even earned me an 18-episode stint on MTVs The Grind before my Freshman year of college and came in handy during ZTA Linedance at University of Florida. So I am totally cool, you guys.
Here’s the problem – the concert was on a Wednesday night, at SunLife stadium (which as my friend Marni pointed out so eloquently, should just be burnt down).
“So what’s the problem Rachel!?! It’s an awesome concert!” you might say. My friend Amanda actually texted me almost exactly that as she was stuck in traffic too trying to get there and told me to make lemonade out of lemons. Coincidentally, the traffic made her so late and the line to get in was so long, that she turned around when she got there and therefore took her lemonade to go.
Let me paint a picture for you of what has to go down and the logistics behind it to make it to this seemingly innocent concert, and let’s start at the beginning of the day it will occur.
6:00 am- Wake up (really 5:52 am because my daughter LOVES to wake me up minutes before my alarm is set to go off).
6:00-7:00 am – Getting both of us ready as she changes outfits multiple times, asks for milk a minimum of 2-3 times, obsesses over which bathing suit she’s wearing to camp which inevitably impacts her selected outfit. Make her lunch, pack up her backpack, make my breakfast and find a few minutes to throw my own clothes on and a little makeup so I don’t look homeless when I walk into work.
7:15 am – Wait while she decides on the shoes she is going to wear. Finally get her out the door and buckled into her carseat after a mini tantrum because she has a wedgie.
7:30 am – Get in and out of and back in car because I forgot her sippy cup with milk.
7:45ish – Drop her off at early care and get about 100 hugs and kisses (by far my favorite part – never gets old).
8:00am – Park car back in my garage so I can walk to work (That’s right bitches! Don’t be jealous).
Spend the day submerged in meetings, emails, phone calls, writing, Tweeting, Blogging, and a million other things of which my mother still has no idea how to explain to someone what I do.
5:00pm – Have to take her to get fitted for and order school uniforms for kindergarten (which I welcome with open arms to hopefully eliminate the first two line items in the coming school year).
6:00pm – Run home where my mom is waiting to sleep over because no babysitter wanted to be at my house on a weeknight knowing the concert would run super late, change and get myself back out the door to head to Jason’s.
7:00pm – Arrive at Jason’s (in Davie) and leave for concert 8 minutes later.
9:35pm – Park and get out of car at Sun Life.
That is NOT a typo. We didn’t hit a minute of traffic until we were 1.6 miles from the stadium. It took us TWO HOURS to go 1.6 miles. Two. Hours.
It was then, at that very moment, that I think Jason realized that I was not exaggerating how bad it would be and completely understood why I was not really into it.
We we got to our seats, which were good, it was so effing hot (because it’s summer in Florida but go ahead and have a concert outside when you have two other giant indoor arenas with plenty of AC – thanks for nothing Beyonce. Power couple my ass), and I’m waiting for it to turn around. For us to be so into it that we forget the last two hours spent in traffic that we will never get back.
Are they great performers? Yes! However, after every 3 minute song came a 7 minute artsy video showing them doing crazy shit like firing guns, wearing lacey S&M face masks, cutting lines of cocaine and spraying champagne and money all over a hotel bed. I did not sit in purgatory for hours to see a stupid movie every 5 seconds. At about 10:30pm Jay-Z said “Oh, we just gettin started!” I lovingly looked at Jason, with adoration in my eyes, love in my heart and sweat pouring down my back and said, “I am NOT just getting started.” We left by 10:45pm. Why? Because that same shitshow that happened on the front end would undoubtedly happen when we left. I know because I saw JT/Jay-Z there last August and it took well over an hour and a half to get out of the parking lot alone. No thanks. I’d rather have a high colonic than go through that again.
When we left, Jason looked at me, equally lovingly, and said “I will NEVER buy tickets for a midweek concert or at Sun Life Stadium again.”
The whole situation made me play a little comparison game in my head, and I’m gonna share it with you, because sharing is caring. Let’s play 27 yr old Rachel vs. 37 yr old Rachel. And both are attending this concert. I’ll even break it into categories.
Upon hearing the news of the concert tickets:
27 yr old Rachel: Holy Shit! That is amazing! We should totally get a hotel room for the night, pre-party, and Live. It. Up! I’ll even take a vacation day the next day and we can drink bloody mary’s by the pool or go for a boozy brunch. Oooohhh and we should split a limo!
37 yr old Rachel: Fuckkkkkk! It’s a Wednesday night? How am I gonna get a sitter! I have to get my kid out the door for camp at 7:30 the next morning and go to work. Kill me now.
27 yr old Rachel: OMG OMG, let’s go to a sick dinner before the concert. It will be awesome. We’ll have yummy food, and cocktails.
37 yr old Rachel: Dinner? Who the hell has time for dinner? I’m coming straight from work and rushing as is. Jason: Ok, I’ll just get Laspadas and we’ll eat in the car on the way. Rachel: Perfect! (and means it).
27 yr old Rachel: I’m gonna get a mani, pedi and then go to the mall to grab a super cute outfit and sick heels…the higher the better.
37 yr old Rachel: I’m wearing my “Money, Cash, Hoes” Tshirt, capri leggings and flip-flops. Maybe I’ll throw on an extra layer of deodorant and spritz of perfume since there’s no time to shower. Then I watched all the current 27 yr olds in their sick heels and realized that they fell into two categories 1) They could not walk. They literally looked like they were drunk or mentally unstable or both. 2) They couldn’t suffer any longer and removed their heels to walk barefoot and risk getting staph infection.
27 yr old Rachel: We are NOT leaving until the lights come on. Until we know for sure there’s not a fourth encore. I don’t care what time it is.
37 yr old Rachel: (at 10pm to Jason) “Babe, I love you but I have about a half hour left in me and by half hour I really mean 10 minutes.
That about covers the major stuff. And you guys, I really did wear that shirt. But I am so anal retentive, that I couldn’t take the grammatical error. You see, it originally had “Hoe’s” as possessive. But I solved that little eye sore with a black sharpie. I just couldn’t be judged wearing a shirt with poor grammar. I was, however, totally fine being judged that it had the words “Money, Cash Hoes.” You can’t argue that a Jay and Bey concert isn’t the perfect venue to rock that shit either.
Jason , thank you for the anniversary present. I love you a lot and want you to know I would go anywhere with you – to the ends of the earth…except Sun Life…ever.