Bad Rabbits

I learned a valuable life lesson this past weekend, sometimes it’s good to step outside your comfort zone, no matter how badly you want to crawl into the fetal position and cry yourself to sleep under your desk at work. My friend and another friend of his were going to a show for a band named Bad Rabbits and invited me to join. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go. Up to the minute of commitment I was certain I would try to weasel my way out of going with some obnoxious excuse that wasn’t even remotely true.

“I, uh, need to see my doctor after work. Yes, I know it’s a Friday, but my diabetes is acting up and I know you have no follow up questions for that.”

“Hey, man, listen I may have made some plans with, ummmmmmmmmmm, my fianc-. I can’t go.”

But the truth of the matter was I wanted to go back to my safe zone of sitting on my couch and letting life pass me by. I would grab a bag of chips and shove them into my mouth one-by-one with each one symbolizing how upset I really was that I didn’t attend the show.

I went into work on Friday and checked my email – I was hoping to get into the show for free – but to no avail, no such luck. The next step was to check – they surely would have tickets! They did all week! – but no, apparently this band that I was only just introduced to had other fans that were not just introduced to them. So I sat there and had a dilemma on my hands, one which really didn’t have a happy ending.

A quick email to my friend showed that my interest in attending this show was fading and I think that registered with him and, thankfully now, it made me feel guilty. This guilt started to consume me, so I did what any sane, rational human being would do in a moment like this: refreshed the webpage for Ticketmaster secretly hoping I would receive the same message that read, “Sorry, there are no tickets available that match your selection.”

YES! I have a reasonable excuse, with some fancy footwork about how my friend disappointed me by not getting me in for free, and now I don’t have to feel guilty about the outcome. I shot an email off to the friend I was going to the show with, “Hey man, tickets are sold out. I’ll keep checking throughout the day.”

And I did keep checking. Each time I hit the “Search Again” button a sense of panic took over my body and I hoped, with all my being, that the query would show up with nothing. After about 10 searches I had an amazing record of 10/10 that gave me exactly what I wanted. Clearly I still felt guilty about not admitting I didn’t want to go anymore.

Then at around 4:30 – which was the “last search”, I told myself – I refreshed the page to keep up the rouse and as I closed my eyes, and crossed every part of myself for good luck, there the message sat, clear as a sunrise on a cloudless summer morning, 1 ticket = $23.00.


This couldn’t be! My entire ploy has now completely deteriorated – of course, as I sit here writing this, my friend would have never checked the website to ensure no tickets were available – and I will be forced to attend this event. OH THE HUMANITY!

My next plan was to let the time run out on how long they would hold the ticket for me. Ahhhhh, the genius in me was concocting a brew that would allow my vile lies to convince myself I was doing the right thing. BLASTED! Upon allowing the time to run out and checking again to see if tickets were available – clearly still felt guilty – the same ticket was still there. Like a Raven mocking Edgar Allen Poe, it sat there taunting me like a camera phone taunts Anthony Wiener. My destiny had changed, a full gust of wind in the sails of my boat made me change course…I purchased the tickets, hope that was clear.

With tickets in hand I reluctantly made my way downtown to meet up with my friend and his, now mine also – SPOILER ALERT – and we ventured into the night. We ate dinner, bonded and had a great “guys night out” and then went our merry ways.

What’s that? The show?

The show was one of the best shows I have ever been to in my life. If you take the deliciousness of a glazed donut fresh out of the oven at Dunkin’ Donuts and combined it with the aroma and taste of a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter day it was that good – that’s my paradise so fuck you if you don’t like it. Seriously though, an amazing show and a great time with some great friends and a life lesson learned. If your brain is telling you, “BLAH. I don’t have a real reason not to do something so let’s make up an excuse so you can be comfortable in your little bubble”, ignore it and do whatever it is you’re afraid to do. Unless it’s murder…or rape, don’t do that shit you fucking asshole.


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