Notes from a Concert

Perfect spot. Right in front of the stage, a couple of feet back. Little kids in front of us. We are ready for  The Nadas, our traditional 4th of July weekend concert. I was ready for fun music, dancing and singing along with my husband and our friends, enjoying the end of a long week.

The crowd is rowdier than most years. As The Nadas take the stage, the area in front of the stage fills with groups of people. Many have obviously been overindulging in adult beverages, but they are behind us and shouldn't last long.

I didn't notice the young woman in the orange sundress standing a little to the left of us and leaning on the stage. Not at first anyway...

But soon, a couple of other young women joined her. Lots of squeals and hugs and they pushed their way in front of us (take your high school reunion to the back of the crowd). And with cute young women inevitably come several young men, who also pushed their way in front of us.

But there's a space beside them, so I take a couple of steps and move up (Don't get between me and The Nadas). My husband joins me and the others move behind us.

The music is awesome and fun and I just want to dance and sing along.

The girl in the orange dress leaves, but her high school reunion stays.

And they are really rather rude. They keep taking over. I keep adjusting.

The Amazon Girl who ended up in front of me is wildly dancing--and I do mean wildly. Arms swinging, backing up into us, dancing side to side ( there's an art to dancing in a large crowd. She obviously doesn't know how to dance in one spot). I begin to think she's just trying to get us to leave, that this dancing thing is a game.

I decide to play along (I've been going to concerts longer than you've been alive. Just try to get rid of me).

I side-step, edge forward and get on her left. She turns to look at me. She now decides on a new approach. We'll be friends...

"How long have you been a Nadas fan?"
"Oh, 10 or 12 years."
"WooHoo!" And she raises her hand for a high five.

Really. A high five.

I roll my eyes and give her what she wants.

A couple of more questions and more high fives. Each time I try to position myself in front of her.

"Here," she says as she pats the stage, "Here's a spot with your name on it."

Oh, don't be condescending with me. I teach high school. I can go toe to toe with your attitude.

"I 'm fine. I'm just trying to get out of your dancing zone. You keep stepping on my feet."

During this time, the guys have gone for more beer and chase down another girl, so we have some peace.

It doesn't last long.

The guy comes back. Hallalujah! He is now friends on Facebook with the girl's sister! (Note to drunk boy--friending her sister on Facebook doesn't mean love is in the air!)

She again pats the stage and tries to get me to move and I again assure her that I am just fine where I am as long as she doesn't stand in front of me.

I'm getting tired of the game. This could get ugly.

Luckily, it doesn't.

They leave. I dance and enjoy myself with my friends.