"If you're not here to party, fuck you!"
Cousin J, Shane and I attended Sunday night’s Madonna concert at the infamous venue Madison Square Garden. Sold out-packed house. Of course, as I’d heard, the air conditioning was off and the joint was HOT HOT HOT. J and I were hot as we entered the building and struggled with the crowd to make souvenier purchases. J got the overpriced shirt and a keychain. I purchased a keychain, a sheet of stickers (I hope to scrapbook the day) and after the show, I bought a mug. Shane got himself the program. We all contributed nicely to Madge making her millions. Anyway, we entered the Garden and headed for our seats. Showed the usher (are they called that in a place like that?) the tickets and he said (with attitude that J didn’t like), “see that top row up there? Those are your seats all the way back there.” So we were row N, which was the back row of our section, but we were the end seats which meant 2 of the three seats, had nothing but the stairway in front of them. J was fearful that she might fall down the stairs while dancing so we all switched seats leaving Shane and I in those and J with one seat in front of her. We felt these seats were great, considering what they could have been like. We were early and enjoyed a glass of champagne…visited the restrooms and yes, J and I began complaining when Madge made us wait until almost 9 for the show to begin.
The seats around us began to fill. A lovely older gay-couple came in to our row and settled in their seats. Then two women came up the stairs with the usher, “These are our seats?” the sober woman said, “yeah,” replied the usher. “Is there anything you can do for us?” the sober woman brazenly asked, “no,” replied the usher. Now I refer to this woman as “sober” woman because her friend was most definitely “drunken” woman. So sober woman begins her trek past the legs of Shane, myself and J towards her seat. Drunken woman, who could also go by the names Boob-job Woman, Face-Lift woman, or Inappropriately Dressed woman, begins walking passed us and says, “I hope you guys are here to have fun! I mean I hope you’re here to have fun. I’m married with two kids and I don’t get out a lot so if you’re not here to party fuck you. And if I annoy you that’s on you not on me.” I am not kidding by any of those statements. That is EXACTLY what she said as Shane, J and I sat and gave her a laugh, a polite attempt to get her moving to her seat and leave us alone. Thankfully there were about four seats between drunken woman and J that would be filled by less fortunate people. The three of us were in agreement that at that very moment, drunken woman was far more annoying than she would have been if she spent the night with her mouth shut and just dancing her (probably surgically altered) ass off. Worst of all, her shoes were so high and she was so drunk that she had difficulty navigating the narrow stairs and aisles, and actually put her hand on my shoulder for support as she walked past. If we thought she was going to be a problem for the night, we were wrong…we had some other neighbors for that.
To our right sat two couples, who seemed to speak little to no English. They sat in their seats as the show began…and then practically never again through the night. They must have been up dancing then, you think…but no! Rather the four of them assembled at the stairs right in front of Shane and I. For less than one second they looked toward Madonna and danced as if they were at a concert. For a remainder of their time there they had hot and heavy make-out sessions alternated with deep and on-going conversation. This annoyed me for two reasons. 1. They stood right in the line of vision of Shane and I (and a bit for J too) as no one should have been there because it was the aisle. And 2. Whenever someone tried to walk past them they did not move at all. At one point Sober woman returned to her seat with drinks in hand and had to squeeze past them. At that moment, I personally put my hands on the man pushing him back toward his seat and said, “You need to move she’s trying to walk past!” My blood was boiling. If the temperature in the room wasn’t enough to overheat me, the four make-out talkers put me right over the edge. Anyway, I’m jumping ahead. Madonna takes the stage on the cross, Live to Tell being a personal favorite begins to be sung….two of the four make-out talkers are standing in the aisle having a conversation….not paying attention AT ALL to the fact that they were at a concert. During this time the other two had moved down to stand even further down on the aisle to make out, rather than watch the show. I was growing increasingly enraged by the conversation taking place in my line of sight, and though I couldn’t hear their exact words (nor understand them since they were speaking in a different language) but I could hear that hum of them talking. Shortly there after, as Isaac was being sung, one of the gay couple and sober woman headed down the stairs together, and being fed up with the four make out talkers, who were STILL taking up the entire stair way, I followed. I went directly to the usher and said, “Look those people up there are standing in the aisle, and they aren’t dancing and having a good time, they’re just blocking the way and not moving when people need to pass. People have nearly fallen trying to pass them (which wasn’t entirely a lie.) I know they can’t be blocking the aisle.” I didn’t want to make it seem like I was bothered that people were standing and dancing at a concert…hell we ALL were…but I was bothered by these people’s LACK of dancing and just plain being disrespectful. With that I went to the bathroom, embarrassed to turn around and walk right back up the stairs, and not that into Isaac to be honest. I was back for Sorry and thrilled to know that the usher came up and spoke with them. From then on they wandered in and out of their row but they never stood blatantly in front of us while continuing their conversation. Several times J and I thought that one of the guys was going to fall down the stairs - he was SO SO drunk, but he never did. Though he did appear to pass out for a few minutes.
And briefly back to Sober woman and Drunken woman…at one point the two of them came through to the aisle. We all assumed that they were going to be heading down the stairs. However they proceeded to stand there for an entire song, Ray of Light, I believe. Drunken woman didn’t appear to be having as much fun as she warned us about when she arrived. Either she was too drunk to even focus on her whereabouts, or she realized after the first song, that while she liked Madonna in the late 80’s the diva has put out several cds since then that she’s never heard. When the song ended they headed down the stairs and drunken woman nearly killed herself in her too high wedge heels. What a spectacle!
I don’t even know if I can capture in this entry the wackiness that was witnessed in the aisles of the 333 section of Madison Square Garden that night. How was the show you wonder? The show was great, and a highlight for Shane was when J leaned over at the opening to say, “This is a good song,” since earlier in the night she’d worried him by saying, “Why am I even going? I don’t even know those songs.” Madonna was amazing, looked and sounded great. The dancing on the stage was minimal compared to the dancing in the seats (and compared with the last concert I saw of hers). But Madge saw to the party atmosphere when she announced, “No one in the back should be sitting. Get up and dance this is not a barbeque.” And dance we did…and sweat we did. The temperature in the place rose to what I can guess was close to 212 degrees. Sweat was just pouring off my body. J announced, “I could fill a glass with the sweat in my ass.” And when I did visit the bathroom during the performance of Isaac, I struggled raising my pants as if I were trying to shimmy a wet bathing suit up my wet body. They say the lack of air conditioning is for her vocal chord, but I think she appreciates the thought of her fans sweating and dancing like we were crammed into the backroom of a seedy gay bar in the late 70’s. Good Times.