From The Road: Issue 4

I want everyone to know I’ve calmed way down now. Where to even begin on this one?

One of the high points of the Y2KRTE that we have been looking forward to greatly is the Dave Matthews Band (DMB) concert at Foxboro Stadium in the outskirts of Boston. I am now sitting in the car in the parking lot of Foxboro Stadium, and as I glance out the windows, I will be here for quite some time, so l won’t spare the details.

I wish I could say the event lived up to my expectations. The day started out nice enough. We tooled around Boston this morning, did some shopping and then headed out to the concert around 4:30. I was in high spirits upon arrival, despite the thousands of people that awaited us when we got here. Not even the site of storm clouds approaching in the distance dampened my spirits.

There were two warm-up bands that did their jobs well. By the time the second band started I was really starting to get fired up. It had begun to rain, however, and so I invested $5 in a trash bag the merchant called a poncho. What a steal, but who stole what from whom? The rain was intermittent and as it got closer to show time the stadium really began to fill up. About 15 minutes before Dave took the stage, a group of twenty-something jackasses with Brooklyn accents took their seats directly behind me. I refer to them as jackasses for reasons that will become apparent in a moment. They were quite obviously intoxicated and no sooner had they sat down they were up again to re-supply their beer glasses. Great, that’s just what they need, more beer. I tried not to let it bother me. I figured once the concert started they’d be fine. Until then I’d just have to put up with the “Yankees suck” chant sessions. I thought this was a DMB concert, not a ballgame.

Finally Dave takes the stage…amid a torrential downpour. We’d been sitting there so long, at this point I figured Dave took one look out the window and said “screw it, I’m not performing in that”. But what did he care, he had a big-ass cover over his spot. Anyway, I digress.

After they played two songs I was feeling pretty good about things, but the natives were growing restless. I suddenly became aware of a warm sensation on my leg and as I heard one of the jackasses ask his friend “aren’t you done yet?” I knew immediately what was taking place. Shit…or urine rather. I turned around to find Foxboro Falls aimed directly in my direction. I stepped to the side in a vain attempt to avoid contact but the damage had already been done. My concert was ruined, $47.50 down the drain. Anyone else would have had the mother #$%^&% on the ground…actually, I came close myself (he wasn’t that big) but as drunk as his friends were, they still outnumbered me 6 to 1. I was pissed, pun intended.

I spent the remainder of the concert for the most part motionless, trying not to think about my leg issue or the various ways to extract my revenge. Have you ever tried not to think about something? Quick, don’t think about cats! All that does is get you thinking about cats pissing. I think Chris for the most part managed to enjoy the concert with his new friends Nicole and Jessica or Trixie and Dixie or whatever the hell their names were sitting (drinking is more accurate) next to us. Pardon my bitterness, but I think I’ve earned it. Speaking of bitterness…HA! I almost forgot the best part. Urine boy got his in the end. I don’t know exactly what happened, but about an hour after the falls stopped flowing, there was a scuffle behind us, one of the Brooklyn girls was hissing and the next thing I know The Jakckass is bleeding from his right eye. I don’t mean a scratch either, somebody whacked him a good one, I mean we had flowage. Somewhat ironic that the same guy who earlier was dousing me in urine was now dousing himself in blood. And I didn’t have to lift a finger.

From the parking lot, I remain,

-Sean, the wet Road Scholar

Day 12: Boston, Niagara Falls

Day 11: Boston