It was still dark when the alarm rang out through my room. I got out of bed, groggy at first, but then I remembered what day it was – for 25 years I’d been waiting for this moment to arrive.
I headed down to Melbourne’s arena complex, alongside smartly-dressed office workers and those mildly-irritating happy morning exercisers. My friend Silvana and I had purchased General Admission tickets for the Boss, probably the world’s best living performer, and we wanted to be up close so I hit the line up in the early hours of the morning. There was some initial confusion over the line up process, it being very different to how it was officially advertised by the ticket company. But we got our numbers and then – we waited. We waited for hours, got a bit sunburnt and a lot dehydrated (as somewhat of a concert line-up veteran, I know what a bad idea it is to chug a lot of water during the day, especially close to show time, because a trip to the bathroom once you’re inside could mean losing your spot!).
The hours ticked by, the lines grew bigger, the air buzzed with excitement. I looked at the people ahead of me in line, constantly ran the numbers and talked to the people around me who had been to other shows on this tour – where would be the best place to stand? Is it better to be second row centre, or first row side? Right or left of the stage? Silvana had arrived later than me and was a few numbers back – would we be able to meet up inside? Would we have to watch separately? There were way too many variables and I was anxious all the way up until we were inside.