Regret: Part Deux

Warning: If you are pregnant, become easily nauseated, or hate feet you probably should not read this post. Probably. Also you should not read this if you are eating food. Really.

As I mentioned in the previous post this weekend Iker and I went to Ben Folds.

And I also mentioned it was awesome.

Which it was.

How could it not be?

Ben Folds+ Utah Symphony+ Deer Valley Amphitheater= Flawless

What I somehow forgot to mention was the general splendor that surrounded us at said venue.

We decided to head up to the amphitheater before the doors opened because the old man I was with kept complaining about his feetsies and lower back.

However, I was soon grateful that Old Yeller insisted that we left for the amphitheater early, because there was already a line of colorful characters waiting at the gate.

Once they finally opened the gate Iker and I laughed at the people running up the hill like they were the first ones in the door on Black Friday.

There was even a guy with a rolly cooler that tried to book it over the bumpy hill.

When Iker and I made it through the gate we decided to run just a little ways so we didn't disappoint the other people waiting in line laughing at the crazy people running up the hill.

Once we had spread out our blankie and situated our loot we realized that although we had a reasonably good view of the amphitheater we also had a really good view of the sun that insisted on roasting our brains.

Eventually some strangers came by and we moved our blankie a little bit so they could fit theirs

next to ours. They even kindly watched our belongings when we went to the merch table/bathroom/mission to find an air conditioner.

So far, so good.

I'm not sure how long it was after we came back from our errands that things took a turn for disgusting.

We were in the middle of a rousing game of 20 questions when a mixture of repulsion and nausea crept onto Iker's face.

"What?"

"That guy has really flakey heels." He motioned to our friend on the blankie neighboring ours, "How do your heels even get that flakey?"

I looked at Iker with warning eyebrows because sometimes he doesn't realize that his voice travels and then we get ourselves into very uncomfortable situations. ehem, old navy.

We decided to abandon 20 questions for I spy.

Iker went first.

"I spy something flakey."

That was the end of that game.

Fortunately the concert started soon after and for reasons still unknown Flakey as he is affectionately known put socks on, thus saving Iker from staring at his feet for the remainder of the evening.

My regret isn't that I had to sit next to Flakey, it's that I didn't get the chance to refer him to my favorite pedicurist in stg.

xo