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Okay, so the Harlow show? Was not as great or as much fun as it could have been. Why? Other bands, and a weak crowd. But first let me say how excited I was at the idea that they would crash at my house after the Philly show. Yeah! Naked coke party, here I come!
So yeah, let's back up a bit. Julie, the FLICKERSTICK publicist (and gal pal, who I hung with when SOULCRACKER came to Philly this September), is Harlow's tour manager's roommate. Got that? So, one day when Julie and I were talking, I was like, "Oh, Harlow can crash here if they have to." Julie said they may take me up on that, since VH-1 is not paying for this tour or anything. At once I start hoarding cases of beer and drugs, in preparation of their arrival. Many of my friends become jealous. "HARLOW is the only reason I watched the show! They made it fun!" and "I LOVED them!" are the comments I'm getting. "And can we come over after?" Um, maybe. I was thinking about all the cool girl bonding that would go on. Me and HARLOW, reading magazines and doing face masks! Painting our nails! Listening to music and talking about the tour! Amanda and I would hit it off, and she'd say, "Oh, RALEIGH, AlexOHNdra, you have a great house! And a very nice AHSS," just like she said about Sutton and Ramsey's girlfriends. But it was not to be.
The day before the show, I talk to tour manager Marnie, and she says thanks for the offer, but we have other accommodations. "And besides, there are seven of us." Seven? And I only have one bathroom. I'm bummed, yet relieved. And also curious. There's the four women of HARLOW, Marnie, and two other people. Is it? Could it be? El Dangeroso? Wow. To warm up before the show, my boyfriend Ben and I drink beers, watch the pilot of Bands on the Run, and laugh at the promotional materials VH-1 sent me a million years ago, debate whether or not there will be a Bands on the Run Two: Electric Boogaloo, and make up our rules for Punchbuggy -- or, that night, Punch-Harlow:
One punch when you see a Goth.
One punch for a black leather triple-studded punk rock belt.
One punch for a backwards baseball hat.
Manic-Panic-ed hair? You got it. One punch.
One punch when Amanda leans back as she plays guitar -- if they all lean back, three punches.
If Amanda says, "AHSS," drink a whole beer.
If El Dangeroso shows up, smoke a bowl.
We were ready.