White Trash and Strapless Bras...

Last evening, Eric and I and our friends, Darren and Jennifer (http://www.meetthemcfamily.com/), had a night on the proverbial town to celebrate my impending 3oth birthday (tomorrow). We began the festivities at Doe's Eat Place, home of the BEST steaks in the tri-state area...and beyond, if you ask me, but nobody did. After devouring a succulent steak dinner, our foursome headed over to the Riverfront Park, located alongside the not-quite-pristine Arkansas River in downtown Ft. Smith, to the Montgomery/Gentry concert.

The gates opened at 5:30, we arrived around 7ish, I think. It wasn't until 10:30 (ARGH!) that Montgomery/Gentry took the stage and we didn't know that until 10:30. So, we spent the down time listening to the opening acts which consisted of some no-name group and a guy who played piano and sang just like Jerry Lee Lewis. It wasn't bad. The air cooled off as the sun sank below the horizon and we had plenty of fodder for conversation, fuled by the numerous personages who can only be described as "white trash."

Now, this is slightly reminiscent of the encounters I had at the social security administration...except that there was an enormous amount of alcohol involved. In the three or so hours between our arrival and the actual show we were there for, all four of us hooted about the gal just across the lawn from us. She was caucasian, dyed dark hair, manish looking in the face, flabby arms (you know, the unkempt tricep flap), protruding belly, and a sleeveless tank top that didn't even come close to covering that belly sticking out. Seriously, we just had to laugh...either that or be sick.

So, it was the worst when the Jerry Lee Lewis impersonator was on the stage. This woman was flapping her arms back and forth in the air, as if she were swimming through the O2. At the same time, she sort of wiggled her hips and stuck her belly out...every now and then gently rubbing it as if there were a baby in there...trust me, there wasn't...just serious beer belly! From time to time, a nausiating woohooing sound protruded from her cigarette-wrinkled lips, sort of a drunken call of approval for the dude on stage. Let me tell you, folks, this was not pleasant. It was one of those freakish things that you don't want to look at, but just can't seem to tear your gaze away from. It was grotesque to look at, but we all just kept laughing...mean, huh? Not really. This activity escalated until we all thought that perhaps this was a drug-induced performance, rather than simple alcoholism. It was pretty bad.

At some point, she and her pals disappeared. We didn't see them for quite a while, and then they suddenly reappeared right before M/G came on stage. She was escorted into her lawn chair by her man and she just sat there through the most exciting part of the concert...coming down off her high, I suppose.

The really unfortunate part of the whole thing was that this gal didn't even bother to don her appropriate chest-binding undergarment. Ick...
Meanwhile, those of us who do care about such things were fighting the battle of the strapless bra! I love the idea of cool, comfortable summer tops that allow skin to breathe through the humid, hot, sweltering evenings...but they require the strapless bra. OR, that one that I have with the clear straps that dig into my shoulders and stick to my already sun burned skin. Either way, not pleasant. I chose to go the strapless route for the concert and became one of those ladies who sneeks a tug now and then and prays that no one noticed! You know what I'm talkin' about...perhaps you've been there yourself...unless you're a guy and let's hope you've not been there! EWWW! Long story short, I made it through the evening and it really wasn't all that difficult to hide the bra tug because I had my own personal diversion, wiggling the night away, just a few feet away. After all, who was going to see me when not a single eye could be removed from the "show" midfield. Problem...solved.