Poor band.
There are some pretty neato things about working where I do, like getting to see up-and-coming bands who come to play for us, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of Uncle Steve or at least Jony Ive. But feel bad for them, because all the get is a bunch of grazing, ranch dressing-spattered suburbanites gazing bovinely at them and halfheartedly clapping when they realize the music ended.
