More Pixies last night. I was upset that they played virtually the same songs as Monday night. (In a different order, though, and with “Planet of Sound” and “La La Love You” added in — but still no “Distance = Rate x Time.”) Two more annoyances: 1) Hammerstein charges $7 for a can of domestic beer, and the only choices are Coors and Coors Light; the stinky-cakes venue charges $8 for imported beer and the only option is Corona. That place sucks so much I doubt I’ll ever go there again, even if Jesus is the headliner. 2) The crowd seemed a little more into the show last night, possibly because Tuesdays are better for rockin’ than Mondays. But this isn’t necessarily a good thing. There was a shockingly young girl to the right of my posse who was dancing as if she were at a rave. I’m okay with the exuberance and I’m all for rocking out, but maybe lay off the Ecstasy, sweetheart. She had on one of those silly backpacks designed to look like a cluster of black rubber spikes, and it flopped all over the place as she sweated to the oldies. She even danced that way during “Caribou.” I can’t believe I forgot my taser!


I just remembered that I have a dentist appointment at 5pm. I would cancel, but no-shows are $75. Hateful!