Last night I went to the Marilyn Manson concert at the Paramount. So much to say.

First, we went to Von’s for dinner before the show. I’ve been wanting to go there for a long time, mainly because I’ve been intrigued by their sign that says Martini - Manhattan Memorial. I like martinis.

So Von’s was good. Very friendly staff all around, great food, and a fun atmosphere. The walls of the dining room are entirely covered in beer tap handles, which are fun to look at. I had a yummy roast chicken, a dirty martini, a decidedly clean martini, and apple crisp. All yum.

There was a fairly long line to get into the Paramount, but it moved fast enough. While we shuffled along, we were entertained by the fruitless efforts of Jesus-sign guys. Apparently Jesus has given us over to our wrongful passion. I got a Get Out of Hell Free Card, and then I actually witnessed a Jesus-sign guy who was reasonable and logical and possibly even sane and intelligent.

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To make my commute even more fabulous this morning, I had to deal with Mr. Bus-Driver-Off-His-Meds.

So there I am, driving down I-5 in the right lane, minding my own business, when Metro comes in from the on-ramp. He needs to merge, but there’s plenty of room behind me, so I don’t really pay any attention. I just keep doing what I’m doing, which is following pretty close to the car in front of me, since I’m taking the next exit and we aren’t going that fast anyway.

It becomes apparent that Busman doesn’t want to pull his enormous rig into the equally enormous space behind me, and that he instead plans to just merge right on top of me, absorbing my car in his carelessness. This annoys me, but he is about 30 times bigger than me, so I start to slow down.

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If you ever decide to be an exhibitor in a trade show, conference, or expo, I have a few rules for you. These rules will keep your experience more pleasant and ensure that you won’t be slaughtered in a brutal way by an innocent-looking desk worker.

1. Read the information that’s sent to you prior to the show. All of it. And actually do what it says. People don’t write and send out this stuff just for the fun of it.

2. Don’t assume you’re different and special and that you don’t have to follow the rules. You’re the same decaying crap as everyone else, and you’ll be treated as such.

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I sure wish I could enjoy a pleasant lunch full of noodly goodness without being distracted by rude people all over the place.

There are three types of people who annoyed me at the pho place today.

1. Guy who’s eating alone, but chooses to sit at a table for six so he can “spread out with the newspaper.” I can guess why he’s eating alone. Eventually, the place got so crowded, he was forced to share two seats with a mother and child, while he still occupied the space of four place settings. I left before the mother and child got their food, but I’m hoping the little boy splished noodle juice all over Mr. Considerate’s newspaper.

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