You know that you're really getting old when you go to see Donna the Buffalo at the Variety Playhouse and you're mildly perturbed to see on the tickets that the show doesn't start until 9:00 p.m., but you go anyway and get there at 8:30 so as to get a good seat only to find that the band doesn't actually start playing until 9:30 but they're pretty good so you kick back and enjoy them until you realize that it's not Donna the Buffalo on stage but only the warm-up act and they go on until 10:00 o'clock and now it's a full hour after you thought that the band was going to start and an hour and a half since you arrived but you sit back and wait for the feature act to take the stage by watching the old hippies walking up and down the aisle for first 10, then 20, then 30 minutes, and now its 10:30 goddamnit and Donna the freaking Buffalo still isn't on stage and you've been sitting in these uncomfortable seats which smell like piss, mind you, for two hours thinking you were going to see the show at 9:00, but NO! they're taking their own goddamn sweet time and now it's 10:45 and you're thinking I have a whole weekend ahead of me and don't need to be sitting here all night waiting for Donna the fucking Buffalo to decide to finally grace us with their presence so you get up and walk out of the Variety Playhouse and drive home without ever seeing the goddamn fucking band that you came there to see in the first place.

You know you're lucky when your companion through all of this is the lovely L. and she's right there with you also thinking that it's time to leave. . . .