s you may already know, I went to the Kiss – End of the Road tour last Saturday. Here’s me and Pete cuddling (we’d had a few drinks).
As you can see we’re old now, so we didn’t go down to the mosh. The last time we were in Glasgow we were down there in the thick of it, I’ve already wrote about this but here’s an update.
I think, when you’re standing waiting for a concert to start, there’s always a tension. You get there early, you’ve got your place, there’s no 7 foot giant in front, and you can see the whole stage without the use of the Hubble telescope. And then you see them, squeezing through the crowd, the Harlem Globetrotters and their girlfriends, slam-dunking towards you.
There’s no apologies from the hoopsters, they just shove until they get directly in front of you and put their girlfriends on their 7 feet shoulders at the exact moment the lights go down.
Last time we were there, there was a dad with his 10-year-old son. They were just in front of us and they had a good view. The lights went down and two blokes appeared from nowhere and one jumped onto his mate’s shoulders as the concert started. Dad, Little Jimmy (sorry for the terrible stereotypical name) and us now had this view.
Little Jimmy looked absolutely gutted. Dad tapped the guy who was on the shoulders and words were exchanged. Detriot Rock City was hammering through the speakers so I couldn’t hear a thing but it must’ve been something like this
‘Little Jimmy can’t see, can you get down please’
‘You can $%^%% go and @^%$ that up your *&%$, matey boy.’
‘It’s Little Jimmy’s first concert and …’
Rather unpleasant hand gesture (He didn’t say that, because that would be strange, he made it.)
Dad turned to Little Jimmy, shrugged his shoulders then he carefully moved Little Jimmy back a few steps, pulled a ‘Oh dear’ type of face
And then dad dragged the guy off the shoulders and administered, what I considered to be, using my limited knowledge of legal jargon, a ‘proportionate’ response. Maybe a little more than proportionate, because that kick after the guy was crawling off was maybe a little too much. The carrier bloke also decided it was proportionate that Little Jimmy, Dad, Me, Pete and Kev had a great view for the rest of the night and disappeared.
Sorry for the violence there, it was two punches and a kick, but he was my hero that night, which is why I lifted him and Little Jimmy onto my shoulders…
…okay, that bit never happened.
Dad did what my less cowardly inner voice wanted to do. But it’s all very well being a super tough inner voice when you know fine well you’re trapped in a cowardly outer body and nothing’s going to happen.
Anyway, thanks Little Jimmy’s dad, you aggressive psychopath. And good luck with growing up Little Jimmy.