You Laugh Cause I'm Different, I Laugh Cause You're All The Same
Chapter 1
By: Mollye
“God, I think getting a hysterectomy would be more pleasant than this.” Randy Olinger grumbled as she pulled up to the parking lot outside of the Lone Star Arena. She had to be chaperone to her fourteen year old sister Manda and her three other hormone ridden friends. They were fans of that band Good charlotte and their mother refused to let Manda go without a chaperone…and since their mother would rather piss glass than go to one of those concerts, Randy had been tapped for the job. Not that she hadn’t been well compensated for the whole thing.
Randy was not a fan of Good charlotte. In fact, she thought the whole phenomenon with them was cliché. She saw them as “boy bands” with a new face. That’s all they were and give it time, they would fade into obscurity as the rest had. She paid the twenty dollar parking fee (which she considered highway robbery) and parked her Ford Bronco. It was like a tank…she loved it.
“You know Miranda,” Manda sneered, “it’s not like we want you here anyway. Mom was stupid in thinking that we needed a chaperone.” Manda pulled at her black mesh top and readjusted it over her white tank top. She then proceeded to hitch up her plaid miniskirt and check out her knee high “hooker” boots. She looked like a two cent hooker in Randy’s opinion.
Randy rolled her eyes, “Yeah, cause I wouldn’t think that my fourteen year old daughter didn’t need supervision. But oh wait, this is the same fourteen year old girl that was caught smoking pot, drinking, and making out with a 19 year old boy now is it??” She pulled out the tickets from her back pocket and handed out to the girls. She looked at them, they all mirrored each other; same blonde choppy hair, same black eyeliner, same black and pink nail polish…same everything. She shook her head and asked, “Why do you guys dress like that?”
Mistaking this for interest (instead of disgust) Manda replied proudly, “Cause we’re individuals.”
Randy blinked dumbly at them and then noticed the duplicated girls that were skipping into the concert arena as they spoke. “Funny, cause if you are individuals, then why do you all look the same?” Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels and followed the crowd to the arena.
She almost screamed when she saw all the prepubescent girls with their “Made” gear on. God, this couldn’t be worse…
…oh, but it could. How could Randy forget that not only did she have to suffer through the concert, but she also had to suffer through actually meeting this band that annoyed her so. Manda had been fortunate enough to win a special radio contest that promised that she and four of her friends would have a meal with the band. Just thinking of it made her want to cry.
“Hurry up Miranda!” Manda chastised her. Randy’s blood began to boil. She hated it when people called her that. It was too prissy for her.
She caught up with her younger sister, “Keep talking shithead, you’ll be walking home.” She winked evilly at her and stuffed her hands into her loose carpenter jean pockets. She led the way to the entrance
“Hey, why don’t you go eat another burrito fattie.” Manda replied viciously.
Randy turned and looked down on her sister, seven years her junior and smiled sweetly, “Good one Amanda, how long did you stay up thinking up that one?” She laughed at her sister’s juvenile attempt to cut her down. That angle was overplayed and way too easy. Randy just laughed at people that tried to use that.
Yeah, Randy was fat. She admitted it to herself all the time. She really didn’t mind. So what? Did her weight change her as a person? No, it did nothing. It didn’t matter that she was 5’10 and 265 pounds, she still was Randy. She wasn’t ugly, she knew that. She had always thought that she had a pretty face. Her green eyes and black hair looked much better than Manda’s peroxide blonde hair and her washed out blue eyes. She had a pretty smile and she liked they way her face looked. Sure, she had problems with her weight, but she was comfortable with it…for now at least.
Once inside the arena, they were led to a special “VIP” area where they were to go once the concert was over. Their tickets were out on the floor. And surely, Manda and her clones would go into the pit. And Randy could see it now, they would end up getting fondled. In outfits like that, how could they not. Not her, Randy would never wear something like that. She looked down at her blood-red shirt with the white letters across it stating, “How Many Vegetables Have to Die so You can have Your Damn Salad?” She thought it was funny. Her shoes were two different converse high tops, one being black, the other being green. She thought they looked pretty snazzy.
Randy positioned herself at mid-floor and waited for the show to begin. Within moments, more than 300 people flooded the floor and Randy was in a sea of smoke and sweat. She refused to talk to the morons around her and braced herself for the show.
The crowd exploded as Eve 6 took the stage. Randy found herself smiling at the music. Their performance was lacking though…they didn’t have the right energy for this type of concert atmosphere. But nonetheless, she liked the music. She was beginning to really like this music. She would have to download the songs when she got home.
Goldfinger owned, or at least Randy thought so. She was nodding her head along with the music. These guys were insane! They had a great stage presence and she decided that she was now a fan. This night was starting to get enjoyable. Things were looking up…
…then down again. When the band exited the stage, she remembered why she was there. “How could I forget?” She muttered to herself. She sighed and watched as the roadies cleared the stage for Good Charlotte. The pit grew restless as the Good Charlotte Banner was dropped to cover the stage from their eyes.
Twenty minutes in to the stage set up for Good Charlotte, Randy saw how the crowd was getting impatient. The pit undulated in violent waves as the ocean of people rocked back and forth. People were going over the bearer and for a moment, Randy wondered how her younger sister was fairing in the mess. But she decided that Manda could take care of herself and if she couldn’t, then well, she shouldn’t be in the pit.
Finally, the band took the stage. The roar in the arena became deafening as the band launched into their first number. Randy stared fixedly at the members onstage. There was a bassist, two guitarists, a lead singer and a drummer. One of the guitarists looked a bit anorexic to Randy and the other was intensely plucking at his guitar.
‘A little overzealous there aren’t you buddy?’ Randy thought, ‘I mean it’s not like you have anyone to impress... not really..’ The crowd started to jump and throwing that ridiculous ‘rock on’ sign. Randy wanted to jam a pen in her eye. These people were so damn…predictable. So was this band.
An hour into the show, Randy was ready to hang herself with that stupid banner. The entire show had consisted of four commendable songs and Randy wanted to puke. They lacked the emotion that made songs good. They lacked the talent to put a person into their songs. They wouldn’t be so bad if they could only get a hold of some more meaningful lyrics.
As the crowd diminished, Randy made a bee-line to where the V.I.P. area was. She stood around waiting for her younger sister to find her. She watched the people around her. They were all dressed like Manda. Most of them were fourteen to eighteen. Randy wanted to scream at them, ‘DO YOU REALIZE HOW YOU ALL LOOK! ? THERE IS NO WAY THAT THIS BAND WILL HOOK UP WITH ANY OF YOU BECAUSE LADIES, THAT WOULD BE CONSIDERED STATUTORY RAPE. AND THAT’S ILLEGAL IN ALL 50 STATES!’
But all she did was sigh and wait. Randy wanted to prepare herself for this evening. Maybe she would choke and have to go to the hospital. She could always hope.
Manda and her clones came squealing into the vip area. Just as Randy had expected, there skirts were now ripped and their tops were stretched out. She was surprised that they didn’t have huge hickey marks on their necks. Manda looked like she had been through a spit shower. Her hair was rumpled and greasy looking and her makeup had smeared all over her face. She looked like Tammy Faye Baker on a bad night.
Randy pulled out the wristbands they were supposed to wear and nonchalantly strolled over to her younger sister, “You still a virgin?”
Manda ignored that question and came back with one of her own, “So how was it? They weren’t as bad as you thought were they?” Manda insisted that Randy would start to like them and then she would owe her an apology for making fun of her music for so long.
Randy moved on down the line with the wristbands, “You don’t want to know what I think.” She finally snapped on her wristband and began to steal herself for the nightmare to begin anew.
She didn’t have to wait long. A refrigerator-esque man barged out into the room and bellowed, “I need the winner of ‘Grubbin’ With GC’ to come forward with their wristbands on and ready to go!”
Manda and her friends rushed forward with their arms outstretched. The man examined the wristbands and let them pass. Randy strolled over to the man and held out her arm. The man looked at her portly figure with arched brows.
After a few moments, his eyes narrowed, “Did you threaten those girls for a wristband?”
Randy stared at the man incredulously, “No…”
“Did you pay them for it?”
“Nope.”
The man blinked at her and then stated, “Why don’t you just give your wristband to one of these girls and call it a night. This isn’t your type of thing. Your type doesn’t fit in back there. Just make some other girls night and get yourself home.”
Randy furrowed her brows at the man. Had he just said what she thought he had said. Yeah he had. Randy couldn’t believe her ears and once she had, she shook her head and began to push past the man. He barred her entrance.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yeah I heard you. But I am those girls chaperone for the evening and if you do not allow me to do my job, then my employer has every right to sue you for all your worth and she will own your house. AND if you do not let me in, then you are signifying that your clients are not willing to live up to their end of the contest. In that case, I could sue them for discrimination and false advertising and I would own them.”
The security man blinked at her dumbly. This just irritated Randy more.
“Yeah, I took two semesters as a law student. See, we fat people aren’t as dumb as we look. My ‘kind’ know how to take care of themselves,” the security guard still looked at her blankly, “Didn’t you hear me sir? I would be glad to repeat myself if you want me to.”
“No ma’am,” the security guard replied cordially as he stepped away from the entrance, “Go on in, they’re waiting for you.”
Randy nodded at him sneeringly and muttered as she pushed past him, “That’s what I thought bitch.”
Manda was standing down the hall stamping her foot impatiently, “Come on! They are waiting for us!”
“I’m sure that they won’t die if we don’t come in the very second they expect us to.” She had reached where her sister stood and they were led to the entrance to Good Charlotte’s dressing room. The assistant opened the door to let them in and Randy found herself repeating a mantra of sorts:
“Please let me live through this night, please don’t let me say anything that could possibly get me in trouble and or change this night from bad to worse..”
Little did Randy know that getting into trouble didn’t necessarily mean that the outcome was going to be bad, nor did she know that not only would things change that night, but she would never be the same.
And it would all be because of her mouth.