5 things i learned as an ABDC audience member

so the sistamaestra chris corpus had a homie kaywon (thanks dude!) that hooked it up with tickets to last week's episode of america's best dance crew. being the only folks who didn't have work at that time (summer vacation babyyyy), we jumped on the chance to see my fave fanny pack (and my other secret fave, lil mama.... read below). to our surprise, it was quite the experience, on many different levels...

1. haterade is everywhere
now, i know ABDC is a competition, and there's bound to be shit-talkers and haters (i.e. "know your rank" is so stupidly militaristic, it's grosses me out). but i'm not even talkin about the contestants; i'm talkin about our wild experience just getting into the studio.

me, chris, and other homie aylene check-in and get wrist bands. we end up getting two different colored wrist bands, yellow and turqoise. we walk across the street to the studio and are greeted by a rockstar energy drink girl, who tells us to take a free can and wait at the side. sweet, we get free drinks and i am still on my master cleanse lemonade regiment. minutes later, i notice not all folks are waiting with us, and i look around and see a bunch of females -- tryin to find a common ground among us. hmm. is it the dresses? no, cuz chris is wearin jeans. is it cuz we're small and we won't block anyone? nope, cuz a tall skinny white girl crew joins us. is it the collection of gargantually big breasts i see to my left? nope. suddenly, chris, aylene and i are feeling a tad bit uncomfortable with our free rockstars and "special" wristbands. the discomfort then turns to hate towards females we don't wanna associate ourselves with, which turns to self-hate in thinking, damn, should i have worn a longer dress? do i/we look like i belong with these beezies?

some official dude with a headset walks up to us and tells us we're the "lucky" ones who get to sit in the front. to which the big-breast crew responds with, "yeah we know, we've been here before." official dude proceeds to tell us to walk with him, and of course, we must pass by an entire group of folks who aren't designated to sit in the front.

i'm just trying to channel my i'm-on-the-master-cleanse-just-stay-positive vibe, while chris and aylene keep making "wtf-is-going-on" faces, and then i hear the classic comment come from the folks we're passing by: "OH, IT'S CUZ THEY ALL HOES."

ha. chris's blood pressure proceeds to skyrocket. i kinda think to myself, "well, there are girls in the front of our line wearing hoe uniforms, so i can't be that mad..." it went from me hatin on our fellow "vip-ers", to me hatin myself, to being hated on. we have to still wait with our vip crew for about an hour, forced to listen to ignorant ass conversations and groupie talk. this whole two-hour waiting ordeal kinda makes me wonder, what the hell is the protocol for being in situations like this? i'm still wrappin my head around it...

2. judge shane sparks is uber small
like, my height. and old at the same time. who knew?

3. lil mama is high-larious
i don't care if she can't read filipino spelling of names and calls contestants "aliens," i think she's a hoot. the whole time she was pretend singing into her microphone during breaks and messin with the audience. maybe it's my experience working with goofy ass youth (cut her some slack, lil mama's young!), but i want her to be my friend.

4. i can still do the running man. i think.
while the judges are making their decision, the audience is split into different teams and compete for next episode's tickets by dancing like maniacs. i know it sounds uber cheesy, and i was afraid that if they taped it, they would edit my wtf face out of the scene, but lo and behold, i found myself slidin, gyrating, and knee-slappin like the rest of em. and it was flippin fun.

5. i prob won't be an audience member again
not to say it wasn't fun -- it was. and the performances are so much better watching live. and it's interesting see all the behind-the-scenes stuff and the elaborate stage setup. but reliving a one-hour episode in a four-hour process prob ain't gonna happen again.

go fanny pack!