As it happened, Joanne, the mother of Daughter's BFF, and I decided to take the girls down, grab dinner before the show, walk them over to the Pavilion and then hang out in a bar for a couple of hours. That sounded far more appealing than lurking in a parking lot.
Nearly nine months after being bestowed with the BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT EVER, September 1 finally rolled around, and off we four chicks went. With a start time of 7 p.m., we figured the concert would be over by about 9:30 p.m., so after enjoying a couple of drinks and listening to not-Taylor-Swift in a funky restaurant, Joanne and I wandered over to hang out at the Pavilion.
Not five minutes after sitting there, two women exited the show, clearly done for the evening. As they passed by, one of them said, "Do you guys want tickets to the show?"
"No, thanks," we said. "We're good. We're just waiting for our daughters."
"They're really good seats," one of them said.
"Oh. Sure, okay," I said.
"They're front row," she said.
We grabbed the tickets and went to the door, expecting to be turned away since the "No Exit and Re-entry Allowed" signs were posted big and bold everywhere. The first guy to scan the tickets couldn't get them to scan.
"Busted," I figured.
But the worker right next to him tried them, the scan worked fine, and we were in. A mad dash down to the floor, and, no shit, there we are front and center. Technically the 10th row, but with the stage's apron cutting off nine of the rows, we were, in fact, front row.
Being good mothers, of course, and me being fretful that scoring such seats for the Taylor Swift concert would totally screw up my Springsteen karma next time around, we texted and texted until we got hold of Daughter. Joanne hightailed it to their far, far, far away seats, passed our front row tickets to them, and down they came.
After being granted squeals and a huge hug of gratitude from Daughter, I left them on their own, hooked up with Joanne again, and left to hang on the sidewalk once more. The girls got to enjoy another 20 or 30 minutes of the show, up close and personal with Taylor.
Springsteen is, of course, a parent. He surely knows what people are willing to do for their kids. He can't possibly hold this against me. I'm sure he would understand and won't have these circumstances offset my chances of fantastic seats the next time he comes to town.
You do understand, right, Bruce? Bruce?
|This is where we were when we first arrived. [Photo credit: Joanne]|
|See that first glow at Taylor's right foot? Those are our daughters, in a picture taken from the seats they originally had. [Photo credit Joanne]|