The Clash

December 10, 2008
By
“Psshhhhhhhhhhhhh,” is the sound I listen to as I generously sprayed hairspray on my head. I comb my hair just the perfect way to “kill all the ladies.” I put on my checkered earrings, matching shoes and belt, as well as my favorite black band t-shirt. Still standing in my room, I pull the concert tickets out of my back pocket and smile as I look at the words “Row 2 Seat 1” emblazed across the front of the ticket. I still can’t believe I was able to get tickets within ten rows of the stage. I finally glance in the mirror one last time before I exit my bedroom. “Hey, Matt, where are you going?” my roommate asks me curiously when he sees me walking out of our apartment.
“The Eagles are playing tonight, man, didn’t I tell you? I got insane tickets! Two rows from the front! I’m so stoked!”
“Yo man, have fun then!” he encourages me as I depart from our room. I walk outside of the apartment building into the warm evening air. The sun is just beginning to set, and the sky is a fiery red-orange. I reach to my back pocket just to make sure the tickets are still there. I’m so paranoid about misplacing them that I constantly have to check that they are still nestled safely in my jeans. I walk to my 1992 yellow Jeep Wrangler and hop in, trying to rush as to not be late to the concert. I speed through the busy streets to the stadium where the concert is being held. I get out of the car, lock the door, and instinctively reach to my back pocket. Yep. Still there. I meet up with all of my best friends in the parking lot outside of the stadium.

“Hey, what’s up, man? Excited?! This concert is gonna be so bad!” I exclaim to my friend Dylan, standing on the outside of the group.

“I know, dude!” he replies as he pulls out his ticket and shakes it triumphantly in the air, almost as if he won the ticket in a crazy competition. After greeting all of my friends, we all proceed to enter the arena, anticipating the time of our lives. We wander through the corridors, trying to find our seats. Finally spotting them after a long ten minutes of extremely crowded hallways and rude fans, we sit down and take in the view. Thousands of people are sitting in the seats waiting to see the Eagles perform. Flashing cameras are going off in every direction I turn, and loud screams are continuously being head all around us. The stage is filled with people setting up equipment and tuning instruments. There is a huge screen behind the stage in order to allow people who aren’t as fortunate as us to see. All of the screaming lights and fans seem unreal, as if I was in a dream. Nothing like this ever occurs in real life, for everything as breathtaking as this only happens in movies. I continue to look around when I see her: the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Her hair is a dusty brown, almost the color of chocolate. It’s curly, filled with pizzazz, late nights at Starbucks, jazz music, and bounce (when she walks of course.) Her eyes are the color of sparkling water in the light of the stadium. Her beauty radiates from her like moonlight on a serene, glassy pond, while her high cheek bones make her seem very proper. Her thin body is covered with a knee-length black and white, green trimmed dress. I don’t know what draws me to her, but suddenly Dylan yanks me back to my seat.
“Dude, what are you doing?” he curiously asks me. I shook my head, coming out of my daze.
“Sorry, dude, I don’t know what came over me,” even though I knew exactly what had happened. Apparently I had walked out of my seat and began to float towards her. My heart ran away from my body, not even thinking about what it was doing. I feel drawn to her, almost as if she and I are magnets. I feel lost in the massive stadium, for she is the only person I see. She laughs and flips her hair behind her shoulder. My heart skips a beat. I quickly look around her, trying to catch a glance of the people she’s with, hoping no man escorts her. I sigh with relief as I see only girls. Being in full consciousness now, I start to leave my seat to introduce myself when all of a sudden the lights dim, making me stop in my tracks. Spotlights shine while slow music, which gets increasingly louder, begins to play as the Eagles make their dramatic entrance from underneath the stage. “Can the screaming get any louder?” I laugh to myself. I turn around and head back to my seat, determined to talk to this beautiful woman before I leave. The Eagles break into their first song, “Tequila Sunrise,” and all my friends start to noisily sing along. I try to have fun and pay attention to the music, but I can’t stop thinking about the woman I saw. I keep nervously glancing at her during the concert, growing more and more anxious about talking to her. The concert proceeds with my favorite songs playing while I am distracted by the girl ten rows behind me.

“What am I doing?” I ask myself. “You’re missing this once-in-a-lifetime concert because of some girl you’ve never even met.” I try to pay more attention to the music, but it seems distant, far away. It’s always been my dream to get this close to any band, and now that I’m finally here, I can’t even focus. On the other hand, no woman has ever made me feel this way before. I never thought I would see someone and know they’re for me. But what is love at first sight? It’s a fairy tale! But I really want to meet her! “Be a man!” I finally decide. “I’m going to talk to her!” I command myself as I leave my seat, hardly realizing my life is about to change forever.

I clumsily leave my seat, despite Dylan’s words of repercussion. The music is blocked out of my head. Everything else is a whirl to me, for my eyes only fall upon her. I realize as I am walking that I have my ticket in my hand, which is strange because I thought I put it in my pocket. I finally complete the ten-mile journey to the twelfth row. My heart is beating faster than a rocket ship. I carefully make my way towards her, having to focus on each foot as it takes a step, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. I come up to her seat and almost forget how to breathe.

“Hey! I saw you in the opening of the concert and I just wanted to meet you!” I nervously tell her as I drop my ticket. She picks it up for me and with a smile, hands it back.

“I’m Haley,” she replies. Her voice sounds like the Hallelujah chorus being sung by thousands of angels. I reach out to take it back, but we are both frozen to our spots smiling, with our hands still on the ticket.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback