Tori Fan Parking Only

I have to brag a little bit here: I get to attend a Tori Amos show on Friday. Awwww jeah! Okay, I must brag even more: this won't be my first Tori show, but my second. Yes, you read that correctly; I will soon have seen multiple Tori Amos shows. Don't be fooled, this hasn't happened on accident. I check the concert listings everyday to see if Tori will be here. If not, I close the door to my office, crank up Under the Pink, and proceed to sob mightily. I deserve nice things! I deserve my Tori!

Ha ha, of course that's not true. Well, the part about the two concerts is true along with the parts about sobbing to Under the Pink, but I'm certainly not seeking these Tori opportunities out. Nope, in both occasions, Laura has forced me. I am tempted to call her a succubus because of this, but then I remember she has to be seen in public AND share a living space with me, so she'd be well within her rights to force me into service as a Tori Amos roadie. (If they let me pick, I'd be in charge of tuning the harpsichord.)

It's Tori Amos on Friday, and then to prevent any awkward grappling with my feminine side for the rest of the weekend, I have my fantasy football draft on Sunday. In fact, I may have to bring my draft sheet to the show just to keep myself in line. Whenever I'm tempted to join hands with the people around me and sing my freaking heart out, I'll take a look at it and say, "Boy, I really should move Mark Bulger up the list." There's a place for listening to Tori while tears stream down your face, and that place is not in public with Tori Amos maniacs. No, that place is in your office with your door closed.