Alright, so... uh...
Well, I don't really know how to say it so I'm just gonna say it:
I went to a Backstreet Boys concert.
Now, let me just go ahead and say that this clearly wasn't my idea.
After all, I'm more of an Nsync man myself.
Now, this all started when me and my wife were sitting on the couch one day
and she found out that indeed the Backstreet Boys were coming to town.
And holy hell, her reaction when she found out,
I thought a goddamn family member died.
"OH
"OH MY
OH MY GOD!"
"What? What happened?! Is it Aunt Carol? Is Aunt Carol okay?!"
And at first her ass couldn't even talk right to get it out.
"The bbb-be... bbb-ba... bbb-be-be-be..."
"What is it, baboon?
Was aunt Carol murdered by a baboon? What the hell?!"
"NO! Backstreet's Back!"
"Alright."
"You goddamn right, alright!
I don't give a shit, we are going!
I've been wanting to see them in concert since Tamagotchis were popular!"
So of course, we put our house up for a second mortgage,
so we could buy these goddamn Backstreet Boys tickets.
And having never been to a Backstreet Boys concert before,
I have a few questions:
like, for one, are the Backstreet Boys gonna have an opening act?
Is there gonna be like a... fucking bloated Lou Bega waltzing on stage like,
"Hey everybody, remember me?
I did that one song, called...
wh... what is it? Mambo Number 6?"
And for two, what the hell am I,
a grown-ass 31-year-old man gonna wear to this goddamn thing?
I'm not gonna wear a Backstreet Boys t-shirt after all,
it's an unwritten rule,
you're not supposed to wear the t-shirt of the band that you're going to see.
It's redundant, it's stupid.
Well, since like I said, I'm more of an Nsync man myself,
I figured that would be my best bet.
But since every Nsync t-shirt I found online was made for prepubescent girls,
I had to make my own goddamn t-shirt.
So I picked my favorite Nsync band member,
Joey Fatone,
and I go onto Google and I type in his name,
sure as hell, I take the first picture that I see, and presto!
I got myself an Nsync t-shirt for the concert.
Sure, it's not the most flattering picture of Joey Fatone,
looking like he's managing a fucking Red Robin these days,
but what the hell, we all can't be perfect.
So off we go to the Backstreet Boys concert,
and unfortunately, we miss the bloated Lou Bega opener,
because apparently everybody in the fucking town
had to go see the goddamn Backstreet Boys.
The line is long as hell,
I got people staring at my shirt like,
"Uh, who the hell is that?"
"What do you mean, it's Joey fucking Fatone, have some goddamn respect!"
So finally we make it to our seats,
just in time for the Backstreet Boys.
And let me tell you:
when these motherfuckers hit the stage,
it was sheer pandemonium.
There's bras getting thrown on stage,
pregnant chicks are going into labor and shit.
"Ouch, my baby!"
Then you got a bunch of husbands and boyfriends standing there,
not knowing how to feel about themselves.
"Football and beer, football and beer.
I'm still masculine."
Meanwhile my wife's over there, completely catatonic.
Looking like she just saw Jesus in a fucking fever dream.
I'm over there like,
"Boy, I sure wish I drank like 12 more beers before this."
So throughout the concert I'm asking my wife which Backstreet Boys which,
like they're fucking Pokemon.
"Oh, which one's that one, what does he do?"
"What? It's Kevin, you stupid ass, how do you not know who Kevin is?"
So by the end of the concert I knew who all the Backstreet Boys were.
There's Kevin, who looks like he's a part-time lion tamer and full-time sorcerer,
Brian, who is 47 years old,
but he has the face of a fucking Polly Pocket.
AJ, who looks like a dude you buy fucking Adderall from.
The brother of Aaron Carter,
and then there's Howie,
which I found out is my favorite Backstreet Boy.
Because to me Howie just seems like he just does it for a living.
Like, if you met him at a bar somewhere, he'd be all nonchalant about it, like,
"What's that? Oh yes, indeed, I am a Backstreet Boy.
But I also sell insurance, which is my life's true passion."
I swear, like halfway through the concert we made eye contact and he was like,
"Hey you in the Joey Fatone t-shirt,
you know I could sure save you a lot of money
if we bundled your home and auto insurance."
I don't know, maybe I'm crazy, maybe I was hearing stuff,
Howie, if you're out there, give me a call, we'll work out a deal.
Now, I gotta say, as the concert went on,
I was pretty goddamn impressed with the Backstreet Boys.
I mean, there they are, 3 out of 5 guys are probably grandparents at this point,
but they're still dancing their asses off,
like fucking Y2K is right around the corner and it's the last day on Earth.
And they are sweating their asses off.
They're sweating so hard
that every 3 songs or so they gotta go and change wardrobe.
Which leads me to the most awkward part of the entire concert,
when 3 of the guys go backstage
to change their clothes that they sweated through,
but AJ and Aaron Carter's brother stayed out on stage,
where they wheeled out tiny little boxes for them to change inside,
right in front of everybody on stage.
You got fucking AJ's ass pulling his boxers out,
there's a big-ass fucking bleach stain on them,
which was deeply unsettling for me.
All the guys out there completely uncomfortable with this whole scenario.
"Football and beer, football and beer."
Well, imagine our surprise, when he fucking flings it into the audience,
and some 50-year-old dude, somebody's dad, catches it with one hand.
"Oh, I don't think those were intended for that guy."
"Yeah, I don't think so either."
This dude looks around for a second, and then without saying a goddamn thing
he pocketed those bad boys.
"Uh, that guy has plans for those, I can tell you that."
"Yeah, what a fucking pervert."
So finally, the Backstreet Boys play their last song of the night, Larger Than Life.
And here we are, drunk, having the fucking time of our life,
and at the end of it all, I think it's safe to say
that I'm now more of a Backstreet Boys fan than ever.
"Uh, fuck Joey Fatone!
I'm a goddamn Backstreet Boys man now!"
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