Wednesday, April 8, 2009


Above: Lady GaGa show in Tampa, Florida - taken with my camera by a tall person.

They won't see us waving from such great
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away,
'come down now,' but we'll stay…”
Such Great Heights - Postal Service

As a rule, I won’t pay to go to concerts where the performer finds back up dancers to be a necessity. I still haven’t violated that rule, but I did attend Lady GaGa’s gig last night. Yes, she had her “crew”, but I didn’t pay, so all is still right in my world of music snobbery.

HAD I paid, I would’ve been soooooooooo pissed because I couldn’t see a damn thing. Were I wheelchair bound, I would be accommodated in places that there was a view, but since I’m just a bit shy of 5’3, my eye line was armpits and elbows (poke her face?). Especially at a GaGa show where the fans emulate her wears in the giant tranny shoe department.

After ½ hour of tippytoe trying, my brain bore the whim to start the “S.H.A.W.T.A.Y. Coalition”.


At “general admission” seating, I think the floor should be divided into halves; the left side sectioned by heights and the right can be how things are now - anything goes, first come, first serve.

Section one on the left will be for 5’4 and under, Section 2 for 5’8 and under, and backed by Section 3 for 5’11 and under. 5’4 and unders will be permitted in all sections since they don’t obstruct the view, and Section 2’s can go in 3, but not 1. Yeah security will have its hands full, but fuck it! My shorty cash is just as good as height blessed money; I should be allowed at least a glance of what I pay for no?

I think the reason why there were so many tall humans at the show is because Shawtays have just given up altogether and quit buying tickets. The general admission concert has evolved into a heightist event that even the promoters couldn’t witness (their short asses were behind me).

When my tall bestie tried to lift me for a peek, security was on us like I had just tried to behead someone. Of course, they were nowhere to be seen when a gigantic, fucking beast unnecessarily crashed into me, bending back my pinky fingernail, which exploded my drink upon my velvet and the pissy queen next to me.

Oh yeah, I lost my shit on him, but he just stood there, blank. He was bartending later at the after party, but I still had fun in between moments of fantasizing about his grizzly death, and giving him the stink eye. I don’t love easily, but hate and I get pretty cozy at the smallest of prompting.

I hope fire ants colonize his penis with a fervor never before seen by human eyes.

I hope his bones turn against him and jump out through his skin only to beat his remaining flesh into an unrecognizable goo.

I really should’ve just sold my ticket for $200 and attended the after festivities - it was an option. At any rate, if you are 6 ft and over, GaGa puts on a good show - I’ve heard.