If not, it's probably because, at this very second, they are huddled inside the Viper Room watching Constantine Maroulis' second performance of the evening.

I was at the first of tonight's sets. Parked in a metered zone on Sunset. Found out that the change wandering about at the bottom of my purse actually does come in handy for something. Ran into an old friend outside the show. Saw the line. Fortunately, got into a shorter line. Went inside and soon realized that, for the first time since I turned 21, I was the youngest person in the club. Okay, so there were a few other twenty-somethings. However, 98% of the crowd was in age to my mother. Granted, my mom is a Constantine fan. He's the only reason either of us watched American Idol that one season and his departure was the primary reason that we stopped watching and vowed to never watch it again. These ladies weren't like my mom, though. Many wore ankle bracelets. I'm not sure if there is more I can add to that. Others wore leggings of the birthday party at the Santa Clarita Family Fun Park variety. Fashion wasn't the big deal. Actually, it was, but this post isn't really about outwear.

I really hope I am wrong. I pray that what I saw a towel thrown on stage by some kind soul who noticed how drenched Constantine was growing. If I am right, though, that means that some lady (and I use the term lightly) threw a pair of granny panties onstage.