Today I heard about this UNDERGROUND jazz jam in Midtown and decided that I’d swing by to see what kind of crowd was hanging out there…

Anyways, upon arriving I realized that I hate jazz and instead I headed over to this dive bar down the street for $1 PBR night. Although I just admitted here that I hate jazz, it still sounds super hip and underground right? So I decided to tell everyone there about the “incredible jazz combo I just saw”. All of my friends were super intrigued, and my friend Angelo, who has a sweet handlebar mustache by the way, even suggested that we go down and check it out. Now I know what you’re saying, Marc, you just dug yourself a hole and walked right into your own trap.

Yeah, I would never admit you were right in person, but that’s exactly what the fuck happened.

We went back into that shit hole and listened to that crap for the next 4 hours, and the whole time I had to pretend like I was into it. Whatever, I looked super “in the know” for bringing everyone there. I could tell that nobody, including Angelo, his boyfriend Samson, or Samson’s girlfriend Jeaulein could stand it but were pretending just as hard as I was to love the jazz and hate the delicious premium beer we ordered. Too bad all of us are way too proud to admit it.

Whatever. I’m over it.