Sometimes It’s Hard to Know Who’s Right
Posted on June 17, 2012
I’m sitting here, lying in bed, reflecting upon last night. It was a great evening overall. Wifesy and I had tickets to the, “Scissor Sisters.” In particular, I was really looking forward to the concert.
Over the past couple of days, I’ve been fighting through a cold and that cold has led to some grogginess and off kilter thinking (see animal videos, lol). Last night was the best example of my mental wonkiness. Wifesy and I were in the car on the highway, halfway to the venue, when I said, “Where are the tickets?” And she said the dreaded, “I thought you brought them.” That statement did what it does for many people when it comes up. It caused the rolodex in my brain to instantly flip through all the areas where the tickets might be and within a nanosecond, I knew exactly where they were – on my desk, back at the house.
We went back for them, picked ‘em up, are rejoined the flow on the highway. We got to the concert and had a few drinks. The band wouldn’t go on for a couple of hours. At first, all was well.
As we enjoyed the scenery, and wandered about, an opening band was playing, “Rye Rye” and she was pretty good. So, Wifesy and I made our way to the floor.
Now, here’s the important thing to know – THE SEATING AT THIS VENUE WAS GENERAL ADMISSION. General admission. So, there were no seats, per se, just a massive floor with people standing wherever they liked.
We headed to the back of the crowd and danced. It was fun. So far, so good.
But, Wifesy couldn’t see. Neither could I for that matter. We’re both rather short, not like midget short, but definitely too short for general admission and 6’ plus guys standing around us on all sides. So, we decided to go further up front, so we could see and dance. Directly in front of us, there were a ton of guys, really big guys. Wifesy directed me towards the side instead. We weaved our way through the crowd, eventually landing at the barricade put up near the side of the stage. It was perfect. There was dance room, though it was still tight, and we could even see the stage. All was well, except for one thing…
The bitch behind me.
I heard her start to mumble something like, “They’d better move through…”
And then Wifesy started making up this elaborate story about how we needed to push through to the other side to “see our friends.” Then she would go, “No, we’re not going to make it through. Let’s just stay here and we’ll text them. They’ll be fine.” The woman behind us kept going, “You need to move through? Why don’t you move through?!”
I didn’t understand what her beef was because the TICKETS WERE GENERAL FECKIN’ ADMISSION and where I come from, when the main act comes on, everyone pushes to the front. That’s just the way it goes and everyone else makes room. But, this is Wifesy’s home. So, I figure she knows. So, I let her go on with this charade. We turn around and face the stage. Wifesy grabs me around the waist and pulls me in tight. She says, “Ignore her. The show will start and she’ll loosen up.”
But, she didn’t loosen up. She was doing this highly, psycho-aggressive thing where she was purposely putting her chest and knees into my back. And pushing. She was alternately pushing on my back and sighing with exasperation. Mind you, there was enough room for her NOT to do this.
In front of us, was a transgender-ish looking woman in football equipment. Literally. She had shoulder pads on. The shoulder pads had been carefully made out of disco ball tiles. I can not tell you how much I wanted those shoulder pads in that moment, so I could get this crazy-b*tch off my back with just a shrug of my body armor.
Now, bottom line, I don’t do well in these situation. I don’t. For me, it’s always best to remove myself. So, I was looking for other ways out. I looked around for other places we could stand. But, it was tight, all around. However, it was not so tight that this woman needed to piggyback me. Trust.
I finally turned around and said, “Look. We need to call a truce here or something and we need to give each other a couple of inches. It’s really important that we give each other a couple of inches.”
I needed a couple of inches because quite frankly all I could think about was punchin’ her square in the noggin’.
Well, this set crazy lady off. “Why don’t you go stand over there?!” She screamed, pointing somewhere off in the distance. “Why don’t you go stand with your imaginary friends!!!” Wifesy chimed in, “Look, our friends ARE over there. They really are.”
I was done with this “friends” charade. “Look, lady, the show is GENERAL ADMISSION. Okay, general admission. So, let’s give each other a couple of inches. Let’s call a truce, okay?!!”
To which the woman replied, “No, you stand here, you’re going to have to do with less space. Why don’t you go find your imaginary friends!!!”
And as I contemplated turning her head into a paper mache version of itself by shredding it, dipping it in boiling water, and then reapplying the strips over a thorn-covered, spherical object to reconstruct her horrible visage, Wifesy grabbed me.
“Just ignore her. The music will start and she’ll loosen up. We’re in a perfect spot. If you just ignore her and we stay here, we win.”
So, I did my best to do that. I stayed calm while she shoved a knee, a hand, and her chest, into my back – while around me everyone had elbow room.
The show started. The first song began and surprisingly, she gave me an inch. Then she gave me another and another. Finally, I had plenty of room. And within minutes, all around us packed out with other people who had made their way to the stage. Mainly short girls, who had done the same as Wifesy and I and pushed their way to the front for the show.
It’s hard to know, sometimes, who’s right. The woman had been there first. But, when it’s general admission, it’s general admission and in my opinion – you just have to make room.
I will never understand, for the life of me, why people act like this. To me, her behavior was getting upset over nothing. But, I don’t know, maybe Wifesy and I were wrong in this case? Maybe WE should’ve moved?
Thankfully, in the end, we all just enjoyed the music.
But, I am left thinking…sometimes it’s just hard to know. What do you think?
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