Every so often, I have a, "Be careful what you wish for," situation crop up. This past Sunday was one of those days, although I would like to expand the phrase to, "Be careful what you wish for, are nostalgic for, or talk about fondly on your web site."
I was minding my own business on Saturday night when my phone rang. It was my Crabby Friend! I hadn't talked to him in a month or two, so the fact that he called was very exciting. We chatted for a bit, and then he asked me his Important Question. "Do you know where I can get two Audioslave tickets?"
Oh, crap.
The following day, Audioslave was playing a sold out show. He had promised to pick up tickets for his daughter, and then forgot to do so. It was now the day before the show, and he had to round up a pair of tickets.
Now, when the Audioslave show was announced, the Evil Queen asked if I was going. "No way, " said I, "I won't even get within three hundred yards of that building. I won't even go downtown that night! I hate Rage Against The Machine and I hate Soundgarden! Did I ever tell you I belong to the Rage Against The Machine fan club?" And that was that. End of Audioslave discussion.
Well, end of discussion until CF needed my help. I didn't know anyone who wanted to get rid of tickets, or anyone I could call at 10:30 on a Saturday night who would be able to help me find tickets. I told him I would think and talk to him the following day. After thinking briefly, I realized I didn't know anyone who liked Audioslave, ate some Burger King, and went to bed at 11:00 PM.
Sunday is my big homework day, and for once I was actually motivated. I went down to the coffee shop and was doing some reading when my phone rang. It was my Crabby Friend! I still didn't know anyone who was unloading tickets. Since the clock was ticking, he was willing to pay scalper prices and pay me a finder's fee of $100. "I have one crazy person I can call. Let me call you back."
The crazy person in question was CEB. I didn't have his number. The clock was going tickety-tock. I was morally obligated to call him because I promised my Crabby Friend that I would. I had two choices. I could call LCG, wake him up, and get CEB's number, or I could remember the date of the Super Bowl, call my phone provider, and get them to look up the number that I dialed at about 7:00 PM on Super Bowl Sunday, because I happen to remember that I called CEB that night and we chatted through the halftime show.
I called LCG and woke him up.
LCG: (muffled and confused) "Hello?"
Me: "I need CEB's number."
LCG: (muffled and confused) "Why?"
Me: "I need to see if he knows anyone with a pair of Audioslave tickets they want to unload."
LCG: (still confused) "No one has any Audioslave tickets to unload."
Me: "I know, but I promised CF."
LCG: (extremely long pause. I couldn't decide if he was looking up CEB's number or falling back to sleep.)
Me: "Um?"
He gave me the number and hung up on me. Next stop, CEB!
He answered, (whew!) and I asked him if he had any Audioslave goodness he wanted to share. No? Okay. Although he had heard from the Cowboy who had heard from a club employee that maybe, just maybe, they would have some tickets for sale at the door that night. But, added CEB, there were probably kids already in line, all stupid and freezing, waiting for tickets.
Then CF called. He had an errand to run that would cause him to miss the scalpers. Could I go get him some tickets? Um. No? I got back on the line with CEB, all the while staring at the clock behind the counter at the coffee shop. It was 2:30. Doors opened at 6:00. CF needed tickets. I had told CF I would think about it. I had barely resumed my conversation with CEB when I started to feel guilty. "CEB? I think I'm gonna go downtown. I'm not getting any homework done anyway." I called CF. "I'm going to go find a scalper." He was delighted, and thanked me kindly.
I drove past the club, and if I had seen a tumbleweed blowing down the street, I would not have been surprised. Not a sign of life to be seen. I went to the watering hole to see if anyone I knew was there. Nope. Dang. I was hoping to find someone with bonus tickets. At this point it was almost 3:00. I drove back to the club, and the street was still deserted. Only the buses outside were any indication that there was a concert that night. Well, there was only one thing left to do. I was going to wait. If it was indeed true that they were going to sell some tickets at the door, the only thing stopping CF from getting tickets was the fact that he was an fifty miles out of town. Obviously, I had to go get in line.
I parked and strolled the three blocks to the club, hoping no one had gotten the same idea as me. No one had. Why would they? It was sold out and sixteen degrees (Fahrenheit) to boot. Only a moron would go wait. I sat my butt down on the icy pavement, opened my textbook, and called CF. "I am the line. I saw no scalpers, but when you get back to town, you come take your place in line, because it's cold out!"
Then I left CEB a message. "I am the line outside Audioslave! I'm a jackass!" And I started reading. A few minutes later, a club employee walked past.
Club Employee: "Isn't your butt cold, sitting on the concrete?"
Me: "Well, yeah."
Club Employee: "Why are you even here so early?"
Me: "I heard they were releasing some tickets at showtime."
Club Employee: "Yeah, that's true."
Me: "Good! My friend was supposed to get his daughter tickets and forgot and he is an hour away right now so I'm here until he can get here."
Club Employee: "They aren't even for you?"
Me: "No."
Club Employee: "Wow! You are a super trouper!" And then he gave me "five."
Me: "I had to help him out."
Club Employee: "You should have brought something to sit on."
Me: "When I left my house today, I didn't know I was going to end up here!"
He smiled and went inside. A minute later he returned with a chair for me. It was actually the seat portion of a high-backed barstool, without the stool part. A little cushion for me to use on the ground! So my butt didn't get cold, he told me. I just had to give it back when doors opened. That rules! I called CF. "They are selling some tickets at showtime and I have a chair!" I also had company shortly thereafter, when some people came around the corner of the building. "I am the line!" chirped I, friendly as can be, yet spraying my territory in no uncertain terms. Ain't nobody getting between me and CF's daughter's Audioslave tickets.
A pleasant couple sat down behind me. They had a "Need Two Tickets" sign and were looking for scalpers, but since I had the info on the tickets that would go on sale, they got in line. There were two of them, so they could tag team, and one would hold the place in line while one went to Starbucks to warm up. I couldn't do that! Oh, well. Then the hyperactive little boys showed up. I had them all pegged at about fifteen years old, but one of them must have been old enough to drive. I don't know. I just know that it is hard to read when there are little freaking boys bouncing all over the place.
There were five of them. Three of them had tickets, and two did not, which is why they were there so early. I enjoy the fact that all five were there for two tickets, I thought it showed great solidarity, but I wished they would settle down! While one person held the line, the other four would go scurrying off around the corner to where the buses were parked, and come back with Important Reports. "I saw Tom through the bus window." Oh, for pete's sake, he's not a zoo animal. Let him just read a book or take advantage of his phone's weekend minutes or watch some TV or look out the window and think about how he sure would like to wander Minneapolis if it wasn't so cold out.
And then Chris Cornell arrived, huddled into his jacket looking all skinny and cold. He got dropped off at the corner, about twenty feet away, and then went to the door on the other side of the building, near the bus. Or maybe he went to the bus, I don't know. I could have asked the hyperactive youths, because once they saw him, they tore around the corner of the building after him. (While one of them held their place in line, of course.)
When they came back, they were all bubbling about "autographs" and I think I overheard the fact that Chris Cornell was "really cool" or something. I don't know. I was trying to think of a rock star that would make me act all stupid like that. I couldn't come up with one. If ever confronted with a Roger Taylor meeting, I could probably remain composed in Roger's presence, then just act all stupid for the next several months. Same goes for Brian May.
Anyway, the guy in line behind me still had his "need tickets" sign, and ended up buying some from a scalper for eighty bucks apiece. Face value was thirty dollars! Later on, when I told LCG the story, he pointed out that the guy had paid one hundred dollars not to stand in the cold. "But they were a tag team!" I wailed. "They had a system! One person was in line while the other person got warm!" I disapproved of their non-bargain hunting lifestyle. Wait, I also disapproved of their Audioslave listening lifestyle, now that I think about it.
Then CEB called.
CEB: "So you're the line, huh?"
Me: "Yep. I'm a jackass. But I'm first!"
CEB: "I was just calling to make fun of you."
Me: (whipping out pouty voice) "CEB? Do you want to come downtown and bring me a scarf? (extra pout coming up) I'm cold."
CEB: "I'm not coming down until later, and I was about to hop in the shower. I was just calling to make fun of you."
Me: (mentally tallying up the people who would bring me a scarf, wondering if I should hold it against CEB for not being one of those people, then wondering if I should ask him what kind of hair care products he uses, because his hair has looked consistently good for the past six months.) "Okay. I'll talk to you later. Bye."
I only had about half an hour left to wait, because CF was on his way back to town. And then, because my day couldn't get any better than huddling outside a nightclub in the middle of the day trying to get some homework done, soundcheck started. Oh, crap. I had to sit through the Audioslave soundcheck. I don't like Audioslave! In the meantime, the hyperactive teenagers went insane. One would hold the place in line, two would press themselves up against the front door of the club, and the remaining two would just sort of stand between the line guy and the door guys.
The door was to my left, the line was to my right, so the two hyperactive guys who weren't pressed up against the door were just standing right in front of me. I didn't care for that. I needed to re-spray my territory, so I stood up. And I needed to regain circulation in my feet, which was another great reason to stand up. The club employee (my hero) reclaimed the chair I had been using, which was fine. The sun was starting to get low, and it was getting much colder than the original sixteen degrees.
LCG called and I recounted the tale of me being the line and I'm a jackass, etc., etc. And then he gave me sympathy (in between bouts of giggling) due to the fact that I had to sit through Audioslave's soundcheck. And the boys! They were hoisting each other up, piggyback style, then reporting on what they saw. "I see Tom! I see the top of Chris Cornell's head!" One of the crowd of boys said, "I don't know if I want to hear this now."
"I don't want to hear this ever," I announced.
They looked at me with horror.
"I fucking hate Rage Against The Machine and I fucking hate Soundgarden and I'm only here because my friend needs tickets!" That horrified them a little more. Then one of them said, "Well, you're wearing a Pantera hat, and that's what counts." Yeah, you can't go wrong wearing a Pantera beanie.
So, now that I was standing, I noticed just how cold my feet were, and had to hop up and down like a jackass. You know how when you have earrings, your ears get colder faster? I have noserings, so my nose is always cold, but I couldn't figure out why I couldn't feel my toes. Then I realized. My new boots have steel toes. My steel-toed boots were sucking all of the heat out of my toes. And when I stood up, oh, it was uncomfortable. I didn't have mortgages and homes, but I most certainly had stiffness in the bones. That'll happen when you sit and shiver for an hour and a half.
After an eternity, CF came around the corner. "Hi!" said he. I gave him his place in line and went to go warm up. The first available doorway to warmth was also a doorway to the Hard Rock Cafe, so I passed. I wasn't cold enough to go in there. I walked the extra half block to enter the big, stupid, entertainment complex without having to be mistaken as a patron of the Hard Rock Cafe. I went to the bookstore, and noticed in the mirror that my skin was lobster red. My normal skin tone is very, very light, and I looked like I had just spent twenty hours in the sun. I was glowing. When I poked my leg, I couldn't feel it so much.
The stiffness in the bones was making it hard to walk, but I made it back to the club, taking note that by now, the line was one city block long. I went back to chat with CF, and at some point asked him, "Do I still get the finder's fee?" He handed me a one hundred dollar bill, and I immediately felt guilty and tried to give it back. He wouldn't take it, so I tried to give him fifty back. He wouldn't take it. Since he was going to pay me, plus scalper prices, I guess in his mind he had gotten a deal since he was getting tickets at face value. I told him that if, for some freak reason, tickets were not available, I would refund him in full.
Then his daughter showed up and I headed back to my car. The walk was not so leisurely the second time. My hips and feet were taking some time off! I drive a stick shift! How was I going to drive anywhere? My hip joints had punched out two hours ago! I got to my car, started warming it up, and called CEB.
Me: "I'm a hundred dollars richer!"
CEB: "He actually paid you the finder's fee? I think you should at least buy me a Dr. Pepper for giving you the information about the tickets."
Me: "I was going to buy you a beer next time I see you."
And that was acceptable. I went to LCG's and attempted to start my homework, but I was still shivering, so instead I curled up on the couch under many blankets, and one of his peculiar cats joined me. I fell asleep, and woke up when CF called. "Did they get tickets?" was how I answered. "Yeah. I didn't know you were going to stand outside, that was really cool." "You needed tickets. They had tickets. All you needed to get those tickets was a place in line, what was I supposed to do?" Eventually, I got warm, got up, and got some homework done.
Anyway, I think the point was, it wasn't so long ago that I was mourning the long-gone days of camping out for concert tickets, and within three weeks I found myself freezing on the pavement like a jackass. From now on, I will heed my own advice and be careful what I wish for, until the next time duty calls.