Jackie Wells-Fauth
Dear Friend:
Yes, I feel we are friends, because I seem to encounter you at every public event I go to, whether it’s a concert or a sporting event. You are the good-natured individual, male or female, who came to the event prepared to have a good time and then you got stuck sitting in front of, beside, or in back of crabby old me.
Now first, let me say, that I really want to have an attitude of live and let live, but here are a few observations I would make, friend, about how you could help with that.
Obviously, no venue is going to quit selling alcohol at these events, it’s a hard-headed, practical money-maker, so I usually go in knowing that the people around this old tee-totaler are going to be well lubricated. Not a problem as long as you are willing to do two things: 1) Please don’t spill your drinks—normally on me. Whether it’s kicked over and drenches my shoes, or whether it trickles down my back while you clap along to the music and it dances out of the cup with each clap, it doesn’t matter. You are the one drinking like we are in the bar and I frequently come out smelling like I have been there! 2) Moderate. We are in public and I can see what happens when some alcohol has lowered your defenses. It’s not pretty, plus I worry about who is going to be driving when you go home.
The next request I have is regarding the people around you. I have frequently been entertained by the mating rituals which take place at a public event. Okay, so sometimes the dance that is done by people meeting for the first time is a little amusing, but I really did come to the event to watch the game or listen to the concert and all that revving up to hook up later with some individual around you is distracting, since it’s usually done at high pitch to be heard over the event. And at the risk of being gender-biased, lady friends, I especially caution you, since a time or two I have seen you go to the concession stand or bathroom and the gentlemen left behind chortle to themselves about how they are “gonna get lucky and the wife will never know!” Know your companions.
After that, I feel I must take a much more selfish view. I paid for a seat at the event, so I’d like to sit in it. If you are jumping up in front of me to watch every play of the game, I miss those plays unless I get up on my cranky old legs too. As for getting up and dancing to the music at a concert, I don’t mind, but take it down in the pit, where they are standing up anyway. I paid to see the musician, not your butt waving in my face!
And while we are on what I paid for, especially at a concert, I paid to hear the musician sing the song, I don’t really want to hear your well-lubricated, off-key version of the song at the top of your lungs. I know it’s tradition to sing along when you know the words, but please, not so loud. There are no talent scouts hidden in the audience waiting to discover you.
By now, you probably figure we are not going to be friends and I’m sorry about that, but if I don’t point these things out, then I’m the only one who knows there is a problem. Until they do a non-drinking section of public events (like the old non-smoking divisions) where I can sit with the rest of the crabby sober people, I have to go to games and concerts and grit my teeth before I inform someone that we are no longer friends because they drowned out the musician, blocked the games exciting moments, or lessened my faith in humanity.
So for now, I’ll just leave these thoughts right here and anxiously await our next meeting. Thanks for the memories, friend!
dropsinthewell 