I have mentioned to you all before that I have a mad passionate love affair with GEORGE MICHAEL. This is the story of how my passionate love affair has come full circle and I can now die, or something.
On Wednesday night at 8:30pm PST what I had been waiting for since I was 8 years old finally happened. I saw GEORGE MICHAEL live in concert. I saw him on the FLOOR of Key Arena in Seattle, row 27 seat 27. I did not move from that seat for 4 hours, even though I had to pee something fierce, and even though there was a 20 minute intermission. I WAS NOT GOING TO MISS ONE SECOND OF GEORGE. (Nor was I going to stand in line with every other woman there waiting to pee during intermission.)
The concert was AMAZING. GEORGE was amazing. He moves and shakes just like he used to. Not that I expected any less from him, but he is 45 now, so sometimes you don't get as great of a show when a performer is "older." He did not disappoint. He did every song live with an amazing band. I could see him perfectly from where I was - except for that big fat lady that stood on her chair, but there was a nice lady behind me who was nice enough to kick her ass and make her get down. (Let's face it people, I can talk a good game but when it comes to giant fat ladies at concerts I am scared and cannot be forced to action.)
I was also catatonic for the better part of the concert. I was able to sing along and dance, but for all my hopes of rushing the stage and licking GEORGE, or flashing him - yes, I know that he could care less to see a woman's boobies, still I was going to try - I couldn't do it. I was somehow shocked that I was actually there in the same room with him.
GEORGE played for three hours. He only took a 20 minute break...and I am sure that was just to pee and get another bottle of water. I had to laugh when the crowd cheered for an encore and whipped out their cell phone faces waving them in the air instead of lighters. It was surreal to see THOUSANDS of little square lighted displays and one lone lighter. In fact the sight of it made me giggle uncontrollably.
I also will never forget the fact that Mr. Tantrum (Mr.T) was there by my side the entire concert, despite the fact that he could only sing the words to "Faith." I know that he probably would have rather had his chest hair ripped out one strand at a time than spend spend three hours in a room full of rabid women over 30 drooling at GEORGE. (Not to mention all of the boys in white pants that were hoping to run into GEORGE in the bathroom.)
I will not complain when I have to work another motorcycle show, or when I have to go see ZZ Top in a few months. I will also not complain when he plays The Beatles at full blast (although inside I will die) or when he plays Pink Floyd. I will tolerate it all.
On our anniversary I will buy him his much coveted Blu Ray DVD player and we will again be even. I won't have to tolerate his crappy music anymore. Of course that doesn't mean that I won't ever forget the night that he made my dream of seeing GEORGE come true and was there right by my side.
Good lord I love those men.