"Show Us Your Knee Caps!"

Thus screamed the crazy guy, Dave, behind us.

Rewind. Start again. The Sundance Film Festival is going on now and if you have four wheel drive, or at least access to it, then you have a place to go.

I made an executive decision last week to my friends. "We're going to the festival next week. What day is good for everyone?" So last night we found ourselves in Park City.

After the laborious task of finding a parking space (thank you “he” and “she” from Park City for driving a truck and being so generous), we marched our way to Main Street, aka “where the party’s at”.

We started trudging through this fatal mixture of snow, slush, and ice on the sidewalks. A clear indication many have gone before us and this was the byproduct. We were hungry and commenced an immediate mission for satiating our hunger. Two words. Moose Grill. The girls ate buffalo burgers and I stuck with traditional cow.

A certain venue had my attention from the moment I stumbled onto it. There was this VIP industry insider venue featuring a “Where Music Meets Film” event put on by Warner Brothers. I wanted to check it out.

I was brutally rebuffed by the bouncer no matter how rough my powers of persuasion were. Yeah…rough. I was pretty much as unsmooth in my attempt as any empty minded 16 year old would have been.

We continued our meandering down Main Street and literally the beat drew us in. We followed the music and the music lead to a band, a crowd, and some boys. There’s a longer story. In a short amount of time we worked our way up to the front of the crowd being literally less than 5 feet away from the lead singer at times.

We made friends with Ben, who obviously couldn’t hold his liquor very well. He wasn’t a total goner. Just wasted. He was fun and affectionate and the first one I started talking to. It was only a matter of minutes until we met Neil, Brandon, and Dave. There were others but their impressions on me were as memorable as their names. I got nothing on them.

The scene: Lights. Loud music. A three person band sounding precisely like U2’s would be “mini me”. The drummer. A guy you could just miss in the band if he weren’t so adorable. He took off his jacket early in the set and was left wearing a white thermal shirt. Reason to notice him… he sang his beat. “Dah dun. Dah dun. BAH dah dun dah dun dah dun dun.” What did I say? So cute.

The bassist. Easily the best choice of the three. Pretty, without being metro. Great jeans. GREAT JEANS. Not rocking the mic enough for my taste and definitely not enough for my cute pixie of a friend who might have been his soul mate. She desired. I wholly approved.

The lead vocalist/lead guitarist. A mildly short, athletic bodied guy with carefully coifed hair. Every piece had been perfected tended to with precision pomaded fingers. He wore tight yet decent jeans with holes in the knees, a blazer and two scarves.

The best part: A little game I like to call “heckle and counter heckle”. It consisted of this. Lead dude removes the first of two scarves. A red beautiful scarf. He played with it on stage during a song which reminded me a bit of ribbon time in elementary school gym class. Mind you he’s STILL left wearing a gray one.

Me: Please can I have your scarf? (This was the phrase of the evening. Because of our propinquity, we had opened up an extended correspondence with the band.)

Lead Vocalist: (Smiles a giant grin at me thinking he’s the shiz in this venue at the Sundance Film Festival)

Dave: She wants your scarf. (His condescending tone was masterful even to me. He belittled in one snappy phrase better than anyone I’ve ever met.)

M: Please PLEASE can I have your scarf?

LV: (Picks up scarf and displays it on the drummer’s stage for me to salivate over. Sings another song.)

M: PUH-LEEZE may I have your scarf? I’m your number one fan. (All lies on my part.)

D: No I’m your number one fan. Give it to me. (Post ceded by many woo hoo’s.)

LV: We’ll see how this works out.

M: What do I have to say?... Or do? Just tell me.

LV: (Another nonsensical quip to me whist explaining the next song.)

M: I love your dimple. Can I please have your scarf?

Crowd: (Tons of laughter by now. Everyone is in on it. Random people yelling, “C’mon, give it to her.”)

LV: (Singing a song titled “Revolution”. Now the themes are even a dead match for U2. Removes second scarf. His hairless chest revealed at the presence of what appeared to be an unusually low necklined shirt.)

D: His blouse… (What Dave said here is still a mystery to me as I immediately seized at the words, “his blouse.” Song ends.)

M: Please? I look great in red.

LV: I bet you look great in red.

M: I just want the scarf? This is my final… you know what? No it isn’t. I’m not giving up. I NEED that scarf.

LV: (He removes his blazer. Feeling the positive energy from the crowd is literally forcing his clothing off of him.)

D: SHOW US YOUR KNEE CAPS.

Everyone in earshot murmuring: WTF

LV: (Quizzical gaze at us. Clearly ALL eyes with any history to the concert’s past half hour focuses on Dave and me… including LV.)

M: What are you talking about, Dave?

D: His ripped jeans. Clearly he wants us to see more. HE’S TEASING US WITH HIS KNEE CAPS, (spoken loud enough for LV to now hear.)

M: (Hilarity forces me to erupt into a gut wrenching, starts in the toes and ends in the brain, maniacal laughter which literally won’t stop.)

LV: (Too much hair gel has seeped into his head making it impossible for him to fully capture the bull’s eye patronizing jibe at his expense. Smiles. Takes his fingers to his knee, separates his jeans exposing his… knee caps.)

Could anything be better than that, I query?

Thus was the pinnacle of the evening. My voice was hoarse. My feet were freezing and my toes had long since gone numb. We were down by one in our ranks as she took off for the closest coffee shop 30 minutes previously. We said our good-byes as the boys were bailing and we followed closely behind them.

Back to the car. Back to warmth. Back to the everyday hum-drum.