So, my friends and I just got back from the Matchbox Twenty concert about a half hour ago. I was really disappointed with myself, I spent the last hour of the concert yawning. I don't know what made me especially tired, but it musta been something.
Now I know why people bring blankets to sit on, not because they want to keep the itchy bermuda grass away from the backs of their legs, but so they can mark their territory. As the night progressed, my friends and I found our personal space becoming increasingly encroached upon. At one point, the woman in front of my friend was sitting on top of my friend's shoes. Closer and closer, people began sqeezing in on all sides. When we first got there I had had enough room to sit down and stretch out, later in the evening it got to where I couldn't even sit down comfortably. But, of course, you're saying, who sits at a concert? I do. Me, me, me and my bad knees, we sit. And next time, we'll bring a blanket.
I can not get the smell of pot out of my nose. Tonight was like the third time in my life that I've ever been around a noticable pot smell (well, noticable to me, and well, I'm not too terribly observant) and, I don't like it. Pot is stinky. Ewwugh. Ptthut. Naaasty. Stinky.
Despite the alarmingly bright stage lights shined out into the audience at times, this concert was a pleasant experience. It was different than a concert in a club. I think I like concerts in clubs better. This reminded me of the Fourth of July concert in the park that the city used to hold every year. I kept expecting fireworks at the end of the show. It was probably the sitting on the grassy hill that made me think that, or all the american flags people were sporting, it's a toss up.