Cheesespread

Oops, I did it again
A week ago, I read a press release that curled my toes: Teen dance queen Britney Spears was dropping a live show at the Forest Avenue Wal-Mart in Chico on Saturday, July 27, at 7 p.m.! Rad, as Left Coast kids say.

I couldn’t believe that one of the world’s biggest teen stars would actually be breathing the same air as me. Whoever came up with the idea of bringing Miss Britney here—combining her No. 1 songwriting and dance moves with the shopping bonanza offered by Wal-Mart, the world’s coolest corporate chain—should get the Nobel Prize for entertainment. I wasn’t about to miss this chance to cardio dance between the boys'-underwear aisle and the insecticide section with all the funny-smelling roach traps and plant killers.

I arrived at the Wal-Mart parking lot on Saturday a full five hours early, anticipating a crazy party scene (boy, was I right). Three cars down was a fat dude with a Jersey accent, looking like a ‘70s Mafioso pizza shop molester, selling nitrous balloons as little girls combed the parking lot with their fingers raised looking for a miracle. Beside him there were a couple of suburban gangster kids talking about “getting their nine milly-mills and busting a cap in a fool’s ass.” How exciting! I love going out on the town!

There wasn’t much in the way of decent food vendors, though. It was the only show I’ve been to where you had to choose between McDonald’s or tri-tip samples.

Instead, I kicked back in my camping chair and knocked back a couple of cold ones, knowing I still had time to find my ticket. Surprisingly, most of the people going into the store had no idea what I was talking about when I asked for extras—"anything but nosebleed,” I said.

Finally, a little dude who barely spoke English said he could hook me up with a front-row seat for only $50, and I coughed up the money. That evil cabróne never did come back, leaving me high and dry in the afternoon sun. But I wasn’t about to let anything get me down. As show time neared, I decided to make a wild dash for the doors because it seemed like security was weak. There were just a couple of elderly people saying “hello” repeatedly.

Hiding myself behind a man carrying a returned baby pool, I made it past the security force and inside. What a rush! I had begun to look for signs to the showroom, when a manager came up and asked me if I was here for Britney (she could tell by my fake blond ponytails and plaid mini-skirt). “Yes,” I said, “yes!” And she led me by the arm to the electronics section, sat me in front of a mini-TV with three little girls and said, “Here you go, sir. Keep your hands to yourself. We don’t want any problems.”For part two of “OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN,” purchase the online novella, A Reverend in Paradise (just $49.99 from Trouser Press).

Weekly props
1. Miracle news stories (9 Alive!)
2. Steven Soderbergh’s Solaris (11/27)
3. Gogol Bordello
4. Traficant bloopers