The Final Chapter: At the Concert
The screams of 50,000 ecstatic fans filled our ears before we even entered Shea.
“Dancing in the Dark!”
“Born to Run!”
People at the concert kept yelling out the names of The Boss’s most popular songs, hoping they’d be played, not taking into account that the set list had been created and maintained throughout the entirety of his tour so far. Though I wasn’t the hugest Springsteen fan, the excitement of being in the stadium amongst the uproar of the people and in the presence of such a popular figure was thrilling. Chris and I walked (a little on the wobbly side from our earlier cocktails) to the doors and handed the man our tickets. I half expected him to say that they were no good, but he instead pointed out our seats, far closer to the stage than I had anticipated.
“One of my Dad’s patient’s gave him these tickets,” Chris said in a voice that was meant to sound like a conspiratorial whisper, but was instead a strange hushed-yell, attempting to be heard over the crowd. We made our way down and took our seats momentarily, then popped back up with the rest of the crowd to sing (shout out what lyrics I knew, make up others) and dance (what some might call convulsions on my part). We laughed and smiled and made googly eyes at each other. He was just a friend, but…
As Bruce performed his signature, “Born in the USA” for his second encore, I looked up at Chris, who caught my eyes in his own. I stood up on my tiptoes and I kissed him. I kissed my friend.