-One night in June of 2015, I was in Chattanooga, Tennessee, to see one of my favorite rock bands in concert. The journey to the venue from my home had been a trying one, to say the least, but once I had arrived, Providence saw fit to bless me with a spot right at the corner of the stage. When the show had ended, I saw them getting off of the stage, and I decided that I was going to wait a few minutes, and then make my way backstage and meet the band. I got to shake everybody’s hand, except for one of the guitarists, who had already gotten back on the bus. They were all really cool, except for their other guitarist, who, upon my request for him to sign my t-shirt, told me to lift up my armpits, and said that he wasn’t going to sign my t*ts. Incensed by the rudeness of his comment, I responded that I bet that he would, if they were as big as his.