I left my heart in Des Moines
Last night was one of the funnest nights of my life. I had so much fun, I don’t even care that funnest is grammatically incorrect. It all started innocently enough. Rob just happened to mention to me that he was planning on going to a concert with some work friends on Friday night. I didn’t think much of it; I just figured it would be a local band or whatnot, and I already had hesitant plans with Kate. I’ve always enjoyed the local shows I’ve been to see, back in Colorado. Andrea and I used to go to them together. Andrea and I’s friendship all started when we were working at Linens-N-Things together a couple of years ago. We hadn’t known each other that long but she asked me, out of the blue, if I would like to go to a concert with her that weekend. One of her favorite bands was in town: Sister Hazel. I could hardly believe my ears. Sister Hazel is one of those bands I’ve always loved. Their music is so upbeat and happy (perfect for me). We had a blast. It was at this little theater in Denver called the Bluebird, which has the charming distinction of keeping all the under 21ers in the balcony. Everyone else can go out on the main floor in front of the stage (that’s the floor where the bar is), and that included the two of us. We were so close and there was plenty of room; no worries about 6ft tall, broad-shouldered men blocking the view of 5’3” (me) and 5’1” (Andrea). After that fateful night (which was the best concert I’d ever attended), we were friends, not just co-workers. We swapped CDs, went to more concerts, paraded around at clubs; general merriment had all around. So Thursday night rolls around and as Rob and I were heading to dinner, I asked what concert he was planning to see. Sister Hazel ; he said the words a little awkwardly, as though the bands name was very foreign to him (which, to be fair, it was). I nearly had a panic attack (I actually almost did; one of my biggest pet peeves is being left out. I don’t know why, but it makes me so sad. The though that I could have missed out on Sister Hazel again in concert made me nervous. No one wants to find out that a great band played last night. They say regrets are useless, but I’ve still had that nagging feeling when the situation has arisen in the past). So, last night we went to dinner at the Continental (excellent crab cakes) and then to the concert. Even though most of our little party had had 3ish drinks by the time the band came on (9:00), no one wanted to move from the lawn chairs to go down and stand in front of the stage. I hate sitting at concerts. I begged Megan to go down with me; she promised she would, but only after she finished her drink. Priorities she said. I understood; I was still glad another Sister Hazel fan was there. However, after battling with the fear of standing in front of the stage with just strangers for company, and the thought of finishing my own beer, they started to play one of my favorite songs (not to difficult a feat since I know all the words to many). I left my half-finished beer in my chair and skipped down to the stage. Good concerts are such a high for me. I love to dance, sing, smile, get sweaty, go deaf, clap wildly. Soon, beer finished, Megan joined me. It was Justin’s birthday, so we felt duty bound to drag him down with us next. It wasn’t long before Rob tired of sitting up on the lawn without us. The concert was amazing. Right on the edge of the Des Moines River; a lively lead singer; talented musicians; and near the end of the concert, the city started lighting off fireworks. I couldn’t stop smiling. I actually even cried later in the evening, just from trying to contain all the happiness. By the end of the night, we’d been to a couple more bars, been dancing, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun.
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night.
- A Midsummer Night's Dream
