It's strong and it's sudden.
My bladder is cruel, sometimes. I can't hold it in much longer. "Dude, I gotta pee so bad."
The Smith Sister glances at me, sympathetic, and offers, "My mom would tell you to just not think about that whole like...area."
"But that's so hard--I mean, with Huey Lewis right there, on the stage."
She laughs big and coughy and raises her hand. "Okay, nice. Up high. That right there? You get a high five for that."
I fucking love high fives, I don't know why. I will never, ever turn down a high five. I love their cheesiness, I love the douchey, simple, sporting camaraderie they signify.
Huey Lewis is like the musical equivalent of the high five.
"I just want to give him a big fucking hug," I sigh.
"A naked hug."
"Well he's just so dreamy."
"Ahhhh, the power of love."
"I WANT YOU TO BE MY DAD!"
This stupid ass concert is going to make me hoarse, and I really, really can't hold it in much longer.