This was a stellar week in the land of listening. We saw not one, but two top-tier artists who could decide to retire anytime. With this in mind, we ponied up a fair sum to see Sir George Ivan Morrison at the Mother Church.
We arrived early. We arrived sober. We stopped talking as soon as Van took the stage because that’s what polite society does.
The four people with seats in front of us arrived late. They were drunk. They talked loudly without ceasing.
Members of the surrounding audience tried various strategies to politely stop the insanity including shushing, staring incredulously, raising eyebrows, and other universal gestures that are widely understood to mean, "Please, oh please, for the love of God, be quiet."
Twenty songs later, after I had spent considerable time fantasizing about impolite strategies including hair pulling, shin kicking and throat punching, I lost it. I leaned forward and said, “Seriously, I can’t believe you guys talked through the entire show.”
What happened after that is up for debate, but I think an intoxicated woman in her forties wanted to fight me. Fortunately, The Audiophile had the good sense to intervene and calm things down before I found myself learning how to fight like a girl in a dark parking lot. While I’m grateful for his level headedness, I would simply like to say, "I TOTALLY could have taken her."