The concert I went to last night required a lot of endurance. It was so hot that I sweated completely through my shirt. It was so crowded that there was no way to leave my spot for the duration to buy a bottle of water or a t-shirt. People kept rudely pushing past us to get to the front; many of these people were shirtless and sweaty, which made the experience a number of degrees less pleasant. Still, I endured.
My breaking point was the crowd surfers. If you don't know what crowd surfing is, it involves hoisting a person into the air and passing them forward toward the stage over the heads of the audience. The surfers do this willingly; the audience members' main goal is to get the surfers away from them as quickly as possible.
The first one got my attention by landing on my head and shattering my last good pair of sunglasses. I was watching the show (naturally), so I didn't realize that someone had launched a woman into the air from behind me until I felt my sunglasses snap in half on top of my head. She may have received a bruise or two on the way by me.
The last straw was the one who kicked me in the head on her way by, despite my efforts to avoid her. Later I learned that she'd managed to kick my husband in the face, which explained why he looked so cranky toward the end of the show.
Between those two examples of head and neck trauma and the ringing ears my husband and I both still had when we woke up this morning, our next summer concert is likely to involve a DVD, surround sound, and the couch in our living room.
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This week's book winner is Sharon of The Hokey Pokey IS What It's All About. Congrats!