Me, two weeks ago, eating nachos while seeing The Cure in concert.  Not a particularly flattering picture, but it’s the only one I have of the incident.Story goes like this:  I saw The Cure on the 17th of May at the Allstate Arena in Rosemont, IL.  On the way there, I was telling my friend Maureen about how this venue has been renamed a shitload of times since I was last there in 1989 to see, of all bands, The Cure.  I figured that since it’s now an “Arena”, they’d have lots of beer stands where you can also get big ass trays of nachos.  On and on I went until I got locked in on the Nachos and the joke turned into a craving.  Let me stop there and just say that I don’t find soggy corn chips smothered with processed cheese and canned jalapenos appetizing normally, but I was on a roll.We walked in the door, got fondled (in a litigation-worthy manner) by security, and the first concession stand we walked past had a huge supply of nachos.  I think I may have squealed like a little girl.  I was so fucking happy that I didn’t care about the concert anymore and could have ordered those godforsaken things, walked out the door, and been happy with the evening right there.  As it was, I bought some nachos and watched the show.  I’d say that The Cure performed on par with my nachos.  In the beginning, I was really excited for them; in the end they weren’t bad, but they weren’t nearly as good as I’d remembered and hoped they’d be again.
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Me, two weeks ago, eating nachos while seeing The Cure in concert.  Not a particularly flattering picture, but it’s the only one I have of the incident.

Story goes like this:  I saw The Cure on the 17th of May at the Allstate Arena in Rosemont, IL.  On the way there, I was telling my friend Maureen about how this venue has been renamed a shitload of times since I was last there in 1989 to see, of all bands, The Cure.  I figured that since it’s now an “Arena”, they’d have lots of beer stands where you can also get big ass trays of nachos.  On and on I went until I got locked in on the Nachos and the joke turned into a craving. 

Let me stop there and just say that I don’t find soggy corn chips smothered with processed cheese and canned jalapenos appetizing normally, but I was on a roll.

We walked in the door, got fondled (in a litigation-worthy manner) by security, and the first concession stand we walked past had a huge supply of nachos.  I think I may have squealed like a little girl.  I was so fucking happy that I didn’t care about the concert anymore and could have ordered those godforsaken things, walked out the door, and been happy with the evening right there.  As it was, I bought some nachos and watched the show. 

I’d say that The Cure performed on par with my nachos.  In the beginning, I was really excited for them; in the end they weren’t bad, but they weren’t nearly as good as I’d remembered and hoped they’d be again.