I really wanted to see you in concert. Really. I was ready to break my $40 rule (no ticket to anything should cost more than $40) and everything. I was ready to scream, and shout, and let it all out (wait, wrong song) and do all of the choreography and buy a t-shirt that cost way too much. I was ready to stay out late on a work night (like a school night but worse) to put on a performance right along with you. I was ready to sing Listen all loud and emotionally, like Curtis was really right there and give him what for with my voice that all of a sudden has some personality (Deena never could've sung Listen, but that's another post). I was ready to bust out the butterfly during Baby Boy like it's 1993 because that's the closest I can get to a "dirty wind".
But I can't.
You see, your tickets sold out in about 12 seconds. And that's sad. Sure I can still get a ticket, to watch you do this
But I'd have to pay three times face value. As much as I love you B, as much as I think we have a special bond because our birthdays are on the same date, I won't pay three times face value. For that you'd have to come over here after the concert and:
- Fry me some chicken
- Clean the kitchen afterwards
- Read Ladybug Brown Bear because that's her favorite book in the whole wide world
- Prepare seven meals for the freezer
- Wash, blow dry and flat iron my hair
- Wash the dog
- Give me a pedicure
- Bake me a pound cake
- Find the mates to all of the missing socks
Um what? Sure they're good seats. And I know you put on a heck of a show. But, no one is worth the price of a few condos, some Ducatis, and a couple Lexi. I don't care how good your fried chicken is.
So instead I will wait on the DVD for the Mrs. Carter Show World Tour Starring You, and watch the one I already have.
Maybe next time B, maybe next time.