Last Thursday GH and I went to Pioneer Park in downtown Salt Lake with my brother coolboy and his wife A (just realized I don't know if she wants me using her real name here so I'd better not). We were there for the final show of the free Twilight Concert Series, even She & Him, starring GH's girlfriend Zooey Deschanel and some other guy.
This time it was much less crowded, which was great. We sat on the grass before and during the opening act, during which time I experienced Zen whilst consuming a calamari taco from the Chow Truck and then a Nutella-banana crepe from the good people of Flippin' Good Crepes. Both were excellent. I wanted another taco. And maybe one of those goat cheese crepes.
So far, so good. My problems began during the 45 minutes between the opening act and the main event. By this time the crowd standing in front of the stage had grown so that it reached us. We went ahead and stood up too. But I think maybe a hot pregnant woman who has no more crepes to eat can only stand for so long pressed up against other bodies. I wouldn't let GH touch me because that added heat. He, towering over my head, could feel a breeze, but I couldn't. People were smoking, and the smell was bothering me. Some group behind me positioned a friend of theirs so that he was standing pretty much on top of me, so I had to turn around and kindly inform him that his friends were wrong and he needed to move. The music they were playing through the speakers was really, really weird and unpleasant. (I'm not alone in this assessment, GH agreed with me.)
So as the time stretched on, I started to wonder: "How is this fun for people? And really, how exactly is this any different from standing in line at the DMV? Or perhaps the merchandise returns line at Wal-Mart? We're all just standing here and many of us are socially and/or hygenically offensive. Nothing is happening and there's nothing to do but stand and wait."
Only then I found out how it's different. A plastic beer cup came flying from up front and landed on my foot. GH and I looked down at the cup, and then at each other.
Squinted eyes from me.
GH: "Um, at least it was empty, right?"
Me, through gritted teeth: "It wasn't all the way empty."
After eight million years, the band came out and got started. Zooey's hair was very pretty, and made me wish I were a brunette with long hair and bangs just like hers. In honor of her visit to Utah, she was wearing some kind of polygamist dress. Well played, Deschanel.
Of course, once the main event began, more people tried to make their way into the crowd and up to the front. We got more and more packed in. I became more and more cranky as the available oxygen levels depleted. After maybe 10 minutes (but probably more like 5) I was done. I kissed GH and fought my way out of there.
The fresh air was like crack cocaine. Too late, I realized that I hadn't brought GH's wallet out with me, so I had no cash to spend recklessly at the food stalls I had not yet patronized. So instead I called my mom and chatted with her for a little while. Then I listened to the rest of the concert. I was outside of the main body but could still see and hear just fine. So that was nice.
When I met up with GH and C & A immediately afterwards, I found out that they'd been just great without me. As soon as I left they made their way closer to the stage and fully enjoyed themselves, no longer hindered by the about-to-snap cranky lady. I understand that the crowds weren't too much of a problem, as my sweet s-in-law body-checked the people who got into her space.
Later, I told GH that I just don't think I'm ever really going to be the concert-enjoying helpmeet he was hoping for. And that I'm sorry and I hope this doesn't ruin our marriage. He said that's okay. Apparently I have other qualities, like knowing what the Flux Capacitor is, that more than make up for me not liking concerts.