Part one of three:
(Sorry about these multi-parters. I seem to be a bit prolific lately, and I don't want to subject you to a huge post all at once.)
(That's not my picture by the way, but it looks a lot like what I saw.)
So, I was waiting in line at the Hat Factory in Richmond, a half-hour before the concert was to start, with no ticket.
Although it technically was a May 13 Jonathan Coulton concert, and I was there to see him too, I was way more excited about seeing Paul and Storm, who were opening for Coulton.
I have been listening to them for six or seven years, when they were still part of a band called DaVinci’s Notebook. Every time I had a chance to see them until now, I missed it. Heck, I wanted to see Coulton a few months ago when he was opening for one of my other favorites, They Might Be Giants, and I missed that, too.
I went to a TMBG concert years ago in a situation with no pre-purchased ticket, but I was there much earlier and the guy in line in front of me sold me one of his extra tickets. We talked about comics until we entered the venue. It was all general admission, and I wound up in a balcony and I never saw the guy who sold me the ticket again.
This time, nobody had extras and I had to hope Coulton and Paul and Storm hadn’t sold the Hat Factory out.
One good thing was that everyone in line around me was carrying their tickets they had bought online and printed at home. They were not competing with me for admission.
But, would I get in? If so, would I get decent seats, or would I have the Hat Factory equivalent of the old Cleveland Stadium seat behind a pole?
You can have some interesting conversations while standing in line, though.
One fellow pointed out a sign that said “No weapons, drugs or smoking in the Hat Factory,” to which he said something like, “I can’t imagine someone getting knifed at a Coulton concert.”
My reply?
“Ted Kaczynski was kind of a nerd, too.”
The conversation trailed off after that, mostly because I got in the door and started looking to see where to buy tickets.
The ticket saleswoman didn’t really seem to know what she was doing. However, I did get in, not with a seat, but as general admission. I got to the door to the concert hall, if you call it that, and the guy told me to go to the far right.
The venue was small and no matter where you were sitting, you were pretty close. It is about the size of a high school gym, albeit with the walls painted black, and a bar in the back.
Low and behold, my “seat” was actually better than the ones assigned numbers and rows. The “reserved seating” turned out to be numbered folding chairs.
I was on a wide ledge along the far wall. And, I also was elevated above the floor seats, so I could see everything, even if the crowd stood up.
I spent the entire time sitting comfortably, being able to rearrange from sitting up straight, sitting Indian-style, leaning against the wall behind me and stretching my legs out in front of me.
The only problem was this guy sitting beside me, who seemed like a total slug. He came there with, I think, his wife (They both had on wedding bands, anyway.). She was laughing throughout the concert, singing along and trying to hold his hand. He just sat there. I have no idea what his problem was. Maybe he was a fan of death metal and didn’t go to concerts to laugh or hang around with nerds. Every time I yelled or screamed, I was worried he’d cover his head with his hands and punch me.
You probably are wondering when I’ll talk about the concert.
(To be continued tomorrow)
No comments:
Post a Comment