I looked at Billy and his face had contorted into an expression of obvious disgust. He waved her away like he were shooing away a fly and warned her, "You better get out of my space!" The woman seemed taken aback, but kept on dancing for thirty more seconds. Then she whirled around to head back to her seat, but not before issuing a sharp retort; she bent down towards Billy with her hands clenched at her sides and said something that, because the music was blaring, I was fortunate enough not to hear. He turned his head towards her as she walked away, and angrily said, "Shut up, you fat f***!" I don't know if she heard him or not. I just prayed there wouldn’t be trouble. Later, she would return to dance in the aisle once again. And again. We ignored her rotund form.
This bewildering night wasn’t over yet. As my full attention started to focus on Robert Cray, Dancing Guy stood up again and blocked my view. And to spice things up, with his standing three feet from his seat, Idiot Number 2, Salt-and-Pepper-Hair (remember when the ushers asked to see his ticket?) came by and stole his seat again!
The ushers returned to address Dancing Guy once more, and at the sight of them approaching, Salt-and-Pepper-Hair immediately stood up to leave. But Dancing Guy didn’t sit down. He had completely blocked my view of Robert Cray doing licks on his guitar. Five minutes later, Dancing Guy had inched his way left and was now blocking Billy's view, too. As Billy muttered something about knocking the guy's teeth out, I slid forward and gently tugged on the offender’s shirt sleeve from behind. To my surprise, he sat down immediately and didn't even look at me. I said to him, "Sorry, I couldn't see," about six inches behind his ear, which he ignored. Whatever dude, just keep your butt in that seat.
Overweight-Dancing-Woman stopped by a few more times, and I tried not to stare at her belly as she raised her arms and lazily swayed her hips. Mr. Salt-and-Pepper-Hair, finally, was nowhere to be seen. And Dancing Guy stayed in his seat the rest of the night. (Gentlemen, see what a lady's touch can do? And no teeth were knocked out or anything.)
The concert ended to roaring applause and a standing ovation. As we stood up to exit with the crowd, the gentleman seated behind Billy leaned towards him and asked, "Why didn't you get up and dance?" Billy laughed.
Idiot Dancing Woman. In retrospect, Billy could've just smiled and not done anything rude. On the other hand, she shouldn't have invaded his personal space. I also surmise that Mr. Salt-and-Pepper-Hair was either an unabashed opportunist, thick-skinned to a preposterous degree, or just a fan who didn’t care about the random thoughts of strangers. Lastly, Dancing Guy turned out to be a rebel, tough and dissenting with male authority figures (ushers) but acquiescing to polite females in the audience.
Are there these many idiots in the celebrated state of California? In this country? In the civilized world? Why can't people just kick back and enjoy a paid event while being considerate of every one else around them? Why do people act like they have rights but no responsibilities? I raise this question to the cosmos.
It was very cool seeing Robert Cray in concert. I’m looking forward to the next one, minus the dancing idiots.
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