Friday, March 05, 2010

Vintage

Tonight, I’ll be 19 again.

I’ll pick Lucy up. I’ll drive (I always drive). If we were going someplace unfamiliar, I would have her navigate. But we’re not. We might as well be going home.

My purse will be stuffed. Camera. Camcorder. The tickets. A black Sharpie.

(There was a point in my life when I always had a black Sharpie with me.)

We used to do this all of the time. Little venues. Unknown artists. We’d know all of the words and wait for a picture at the end of the show.

We lived for nights like tonight. Timing our days around when doors opened. Destined – by our strong wills, lack of responsibility and the blessing that is general admission – to get the best seats.

We were fangirls. Too shy and too young and too absorbed in the majesty of live music in a smoky club.

Nothing else mattered.

Tonight, we’ll recreate 2001.

And, as I drive us home, we’ll giggle about how cute the artist was and bitch about how obnoxious the college kids standing behind us were.

And then we’ll complain about our jobs and student loans and how much our backs hurt.

Not everything can stay the same.

1 comments:

my life is brilliant said...

How fun! K and I LOVE going to concerts! The venues here are so small that in all of them, we've gotten to meet bands afterward. It's so fun!

Have a blast tonight!

 
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