duchess_of_fork
New Member
So after 15 hours of traveling....driving to Buffalo, NY..catching a plane to Atlanta, Georgia....catching a plane there to LA...(mind you, all of this with Delta airlines, and basically NO time between stops..I was starving) I got to Pasadena...I did, I did, I did. It seemed promising, but not really, seeing how I had Orchestra seats...and I really wanted to be front row.
Saturday morning, I got up and went over to the auditorium..where I was greeted with huge Morrissey banners. I nearly peed myself. It was too much. There were some fans waiting in line at 8am...they spent the night there. I decided to join then, despite having a crappy seated ticket...who knows, maybe someone somewhere would like to sell their pit ticket? And also, previously, I was supposed to be on the press list for the show, so I wanted to make sure that was still happening (long story short, it didn't happen, the Bill Silva representative was a DICK!).
For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by Morrissey fans- something that never happens in Canada. They were all astonished by the fact that I travelled so far and spent so much money to be at the show..what can I say...I AM sort of a really really reeeeeally huge admirer. I met a really nice person named Tony with whom I waited around for the box office to release pit tickets. We waited for about 6 hours..or maybe more. It was fun, because meanwhile, I met some more people...and Boz Boorer (I'll post a picture later). He was such a sweet guy, and I adore both him and his wife.
The night came...no pit tickets. Tony managed to get an orchestra seat however. I went back to my room and got changed, came back and was sort of..well...sort of ok with NOT being in the pit. We went in right in the middle of Kristeen Young's set...it was kind of sad that half of the auditorium was empty...she deserves a little more respect..and a better microphone. I don't know if it was her voice or the acoustics of the place (I think its the first because Morrissey sounded more than just fine)...but my ears were really hurting by the time she was done. Tony went to his seat, I went to mine...but I wasn't satisfied. So I walked over to the guy guarding the first 4 rows and told him my sap story. He really felt bad for me..told me that when the lights go down, he'll let me stand behind the pit and watch the show from there. It was better than nothing.
BUT THEN!!!! As I was standing there, I see Tony, with A PIT BRACELET!!!!!!!! He has a huge smile on his face and tells me that he found it, unused, right by his seat! Karrrrrrmaaaa! The pit guy tells him he can go in, but I can't. Tony says I'm his kid and sort of twirls me into the crowd of people. I land right at the front.
The lights go down, I start to cry. Can't take any pictures...can't do anything but cry and admire. It was the moment I've been waiting for sooo long. Somebody knocks my Razr phone out of my hand, a part of it breaks, gets dented. I don't care. Morrissey comes out...I am speechless. Can't even cry anymore.
One thought that is racing through my mind is: how can I get this letter I wrote to him, how can I get to over to him, past the security guards. A really nice girl (and equally emotional as I), named Bri (who kindly shared her barrier place with me through the show) tells me to try and chuck it, I do...and it bounces off the stage and between the barrier and the stage......I freak...it can't be happening!!!! I need to, HAVE TO have him get that letter. The security guard won't give it to me. I realize, I must enjoy the concert (and it's SO easy to enjoy Morrissey..oh my god).
"Let me Kiss You" rolls along and...I'm sobbing uncontrollably. The guard infront of me feels sorry for me. I look at him and begg him to give me the letter that missed the stage. He looks around, and tells the other guy to pick it up. He does. GIves it to me and says "Don't throw it again" (YEAH RIGHT!).
"Dear God, Please Help me" I throw the letter again. It lands on the left hand corner of the stage. It's on the stage, at least. The guard notices and he feels bad, again, because Morrissey will never see it where it landed.
Before the encore, people all around me are either crying or jumping with joy..the girl to the left of me gives Morrissey some sort of a religious book..then proceeds to cry on my shouler for the next few minutes. It's a sob fest indeed. I look at the security guard infront of me, who saw what, yet again happened to my letter.
ME: "PLease, PLEASE push the letter to center stage..you don't know how much it would mean to me"
GUY: [Looks around, turns around, pushes the letter, it lands spot on center stage] I can see it means a lot, you're crying.
I don't cry that easily...but man...maaaaaaaaaaaan.
Morrissey does encore, bows. Spots my letter. Picks it up. Goes off stage.
The rest, is history.
My life= complete.
I know he won't respond. Just...the fact that were was some connection....I didn't want to touch him as much as I wanted him to get that letter. I tried reaching over but it was too difficult.
One of the best days of my life.
I left the venue in tears...and people who know me know that I rarely cry to the point that I can't stop for hours. Tomorrow, I try to look for Morrissey anywhere in the city...no sightings.
I went to Sweetzer Ave, his old house...but didn't go up the hill..I know he doesn't live there. And I don't think I wanted to meet him, I'd just cry and embarrass myself...it wasn't the right time...maybe some other other ooother time.
Sorry that this is so long. I just...it was...amazing.
Saturday morning, I got up and went over to the auditorium..where I was greeted with huge Morrissey banners. I nearly peed myself. It was too much. There were some fans waiting in line at 8am...they spent the night there. I decided to join then, despite having a crappy seated ticket...who knows, maybe someone somewhere would like to sell their pit ticket? And also, previously, I was supposed to be on the press list for the show, so I wanted to make sure that was still happening (long story short, it didn't happen, the Bill Silva representative was a DICK!).
For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by Morrissey fans- something that never happens in Canada. They were all astonished by the fact that I travelled so far and spent so much money to be at the show..what can I say...I AM sort of a really really reeeeeally huge admirer. I met a really nice person named Tony with whom I waited around for the box office to release pit tickets. We waited for about 6 hours..or maybe more. It was fun, because meanwhile, I met some more people...and Boz Boorer (I'll post a picture later). He was such a sweet guy, and I adore both him and his wife.
The night came...no pit tickets. Tony managed to get an orchestra seat however. I went back to my room and got changed, came back and was sort of..well...sort of ok with NOT being in the pit. We went in right in the middle of Kristeen Young's set...it was kind of sad that half of the auditorium was empty...she deserves a little more respect..and a better microphone. I don't know if it was her voice or the acoustics of the place (I think its the first because Morrissey sounded more than just fine)...but my ears were really hurting by the time she was done. Tony went to his seat, I went to mine...but I wasn't satisfied. So I walked over to the guy guarding the first 4 rows and told him my sap story. He really felt bad for me..told me that when the lights go down, he'll let me stand behind the pit and watch the show from there. It was better than nothing.
BUT THEN!!!! As I was standing there, I see Tony, with A PIT BRACELET!!!!!!!! He has a huge smile on his face and tells me that he found it, unused, right by his seat! Karrrrrrmaaaa! The pit guy tells him he can go in, but I can't. Tony says I'm his kid and sort of twirls me into the crowd of people. I land right at the front.
The lights go down, I start to cry. Can't take any pictures...can't do anything but cry and admire. It was the moment I've been waiting for sooo long. Somebody knocks my Razr phone out of my hand, a part of it breaks, gets dented. I don't care. Morrissey comes out...I am speechless. Can't even cry anymore.
One thought that is racing through my mind is: how can I get this letter I wrote to him, how can I get to over to him, past the security guards. A really nice girl (and equally emotional as I), named Bri (who kindly shared her barrier place with me through the show) tells me to try and chuck it, I do...and it bounces off the stage and between the barrier and the stage......I freak...it can't be happening!!!! I need to, HAVE TO have him get that letter. The security guard won't give it to me. I realize, I must enjoy the concert (and it's SO easy to enjoy Morrissey..oh my god).
"Let me Kiss You" rolls along and...I'm sobbing uncontrollably. The guard infront of me feels sorry for me. I look at him and begg him to give me the letter that missed the stage. He looks around, and tells the other guy to pick it up. He does. GIves it to me and says "Don't throw it again" (YEAH RIGHT!).
"Dear God, Please Help me" I throw the letter again. It lands on the left hand corner of the stage. It's on the stage, at least. The guard notices and he feels bad, again, because Morrissey will never see it where it landed.
Before the encore, people all around me are either crying or jumping with joy..the girl to the left of me gives Morrissey some sort of a religious book..then proceeds to cry on my shouler for the next few minutes. It's a sob fest indeed. I look at the security guard infront of me, who saw what, yet again happened to my letter.
ME: "PLease, PLEASE push the letter to center stage..you don't know how much it would mean to me"
GUY: [Looks around, turns around, pushes the letter, it lands spot on center stage] I can see it means a lot, you're crying.
I don't cry that easily...but man...maaaaaaaaaaaan.
Morrissey does encore, bows. Spots my letter. Picks it up. Goes off stage.
The rest, is history.
My life= complete.
I know he won't respond. Just...the fact that were was some connection....I didn't want to touch him as much as I wanted him to get that letter. I tried reaching over but it was too difficult.
One of the best days of my life.
I left the venue in tears...and people who know me know that I rarely cry to the point that I can't stop for hours. Tomorrow, I try to look for Morrissey anywhere in the city...no sightings.
I went to Sweetzer Ave, his old house...but didn't go up the hill..I know he doesn't live there. And I don't think I wanted to meet him, I'd just cry and embarrass myself...it wasn't the right time...maybe some other other ooother time.
Sorry that this is so long. I just...it was...amazing.
