12 from the door

It was a cold March morning. Myself and two friends got up before dawn. We were in college so rising before dawn was a major feat. We pulled on warm clothes and drove to Richmond. We stopped on the way to pick up some breakfast at McDonald’s. That might have been what changed the outcome of the entire morning, that drive thru run. Sigh. Anyway we arrived at the Coliseum and got in line. The line didn’t look very long so we hoped we’d get decent seats. This was right about the time a bracelet system was being introduced and we didn’t have bracelets. The sun rose as we crept toward the door, but the Coliseum cast its shadow over us. I don’t mean that in a poetic way. I mean the fecking Coliseum was between us and the warmth of the sun. As I recall, we were 16, 17, and 18 in line when we finally stepped out of the shadow and into the sun. Things were looking very promising. We were getting closer to the door. We had a little more warmth from the sun. We were going to see Bon Jovi!


Yeah, Bon Jovi. It dates me, but I don’t care.


Anyway, we were hopeful and more warm than we had been in hours. Two and a half hours if you want to be specific.


Then the end came. The first couple of people in line just walked away. What the hell was going on? Then the people right in front of us turned around and delivered the bad new. Sold out. How could they be sold out? We were twelve, thirteen and fourteen in line. The Coliseum seated over 20,000 people. We were too stunned to even be upset as we shuffled to the car, drove back to school and went back to bed.


However, when Tesla played at my university, I took no chances. I skipped a class to be first in line at the ticket booth.



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