When I heard The Killers were coming to town, I was excited. I still wasn't tired of hearing "Mr. Brightside" (and no matter how much they overplay it, I'm still not tired) and thought seeing it live would maybe cure my habit of constantly singing it.
So I suckered Cassie into going with me, ordered the tickets and waited (semi)patiently for August 13th.
We didn't get to The Cotillion until nearly an hour after the doors opened and there was still a giant line snaking around the building.
We stood in the rain, slowly making our way to the doors and security. We watched the security guy and a "promoter" get into a shouting match. Seems the promoter didn't want to be searched. Can't imagine why . . .
From one line to the next, Cassie and I headed to the bar. Since we had to wait so long, we decided we'd get a couple. Thus, Cassie's two-handed method.
We saw and old friend, Lisa Cordon. Lisa used to work with us, but moved back to Manhattan. She was looking extra glamourous, but I missed taking her picture.
I do have pictures of our new friends, Brandy and Chanda. They were cool (Brandy has seen Bowie three times!) and good conversationalists.
We also watched some guy eating popcorn like a dog.
We sat on the non-wood floor while the opening act played. Cassie and I came in while he was playing, so we missed his introduction. Nobody remembered who he was. I even asked a girl at the bank today if she remembered who he was. Nope. We thought maybe he was Bo Bice. I looked it up online today, and it turns out he was Richard Johnston.
The seemingly endless period between Johnston and The Killers was filled with people watching and chatting with our new pals. We also sent a few pictures via picture mail to our old pals.
I also spent time worrying about whether or not the show would be great. Sometimes bands don't take the Kansas shows too seriously.
I was worried the crowd would be the typical under-21 crowd and start moshing. Moshing and trying to hurt each other to music that isn't about moshing and hurting each other.
But mostly, I fretted over whether or not they'd play my favorite, "Indie Rock & Roll."
Finally, we hear Bowie's voice and we know it's starting. The lights go down and The Killers take the stage. The crowd goes crazy.
I had planned to sit back and take pictures from afar, but it didn't take long for Brandy to pull me up and into the crowd for better shots.
Oh how I miss concerts! The crowd was awesome; everyone bouncing around to the same beat, smiling and singing along.
I made my way back to the abandoned Cassie. We sang and I pumped my fist l ike a big dork.
And nothing was probably funnier than watching me prance back to the crowd with glee when I heard the beginning keystrokes to "Indie Rock & Roll." I am such a dork!
The band was really great. They had good energy and Flowers kept up with a strong voice the whole way through.
It's not often you feel a band is giving you the same performance they would for a more celebrity-filled crowd, or even for one of their videos. Sure, there was no fluffy-haired chick or Eric Roberts running around them, but I was impressed.
It's a pity the after-show wasn't as full of camaraderie. The parking lot was full of people trying to cause accidents. One chick came around the line in her SUV and tried to smash her way in front of us. When they couldn't do it right away, they started screaming obscenities at us as if we were doing something wrong. You know, we waited our turn and stuff.
Obviously, no one listened to Flowers when he said "Be good to one another."