This is unequivocally the wrong venue.
And I'm only here by happenstance, anyway.
It's a decent-sized theater. There's a middle, left, and right section up front, a sprawling orchestra level on a gradual incline, and a mezzanine with balcony seating. Seeing the Nutcracker here these past few years has been quite nice. My mom and I saw Mannheim Steamroller here, too, but that was years ago. Tonight, I'm here for a blues-rock concert and the folks among the crowd seem severely out of place.
I was not prepared in the slightest for how good the opener was.
I mean, damn... those dudes had the firepower of Greta Van Fleet, the swing of The Dip, the precision of Mo Lowda and The Humble, with the bluesy-ness of the Marcus King Band. The folks scattered across my section seemed equally impressed. An older couple with white hair and sensible footwear hooted and hollered. A woman craning her neck to view the stage through her glasses threw her hands in the air. They wound up getting a much-deserved standing ovation. Then the house lights came up and the crew went to work flipping the stage for the headliner.
The first time I saw the Marcus King Band was in a middle-of-nowhere town in Wyoming. They were playing the summer concert series. Picture an outdoor stage in a park where people spread blankets and where little kids do cartwheels near the dancing area. Well, this was like that but it was beside a bar. Small town Wyoming, remember? The crowd there was a mix of older, rancher-types and younger outdoorsy, dirtbag-types. It was run-of-the-mill enough that my friends and I had beers with the band after the show. Since then, I've seen them a handful of times at larger venues and festivals. But I've never seen them in a theater with assigned seating and no dance floor.
When the lights flashed to signal the start of the show, three stragglers made their way to the front of the section I was sitting in. They got to their seats, took a look around while putting down their jackets, and then looked at each other. It was two guys and a woman. The woman, already slurring, looked up at the guy next to her and said: "Welp, they are not gonna like us."
She was so right.
When the music started, they stood up. The guy in the middle of the trio may have, in fact, been the tallest person at the show. I have no way of proving that, but in my head it's just a fact. Not a single other person stood up. And that's when the murmuring started. While I couldn't hear what was said over the wail of the guitars through the wall of amplifiers on stage, I imagine it was some version of the same sentence said over and over, throughout our section.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me" said the couple next to me who'd been hooting and hollering during the opener. Looking at the bodies leaning left and right all around me, it seemed like everyone else shared their incredulity.
When the adult daughter (I'm guessing) of the woman who'd had her hands held up with pure delight just moments ago went to say something to the Troublemaking Trio, I looked to the nearest emergency exit. I expected to see someone from the security team standing there, and was surprised when I didn't. The shorter of the two guys raised his arm, indicating he'd most certainly throw his beer, if she kept talking to him, I felt my chest clamp closed.
I'd initially found this whole thing somewhat funny; a bunch of middle-aged, white people who shelled out decent money for tickets stymied by the socially inept. But now we're half-way through the show. Everyone in our section except me has vacated the area. They've spilled into the aisle against the far wall for a better view or left altogether. I guess I'm the only one stubborn enough to not give them the satisfaction. Plus, I wasn't even supposed to be here. Listening to some great music already seems like a win.
However, security finally caught on and removed Tall Guy and the woman who didn't care about ruining things for everyone else. The guy with the beer refused to leave, though. And he's had quite a few more since that first altercation. Now, he's yelling at three security guards with spittle flying through his beard. So I have a front row-seat to watch as he's forcibly removed.
This is unequivocally the wrong venue for this kind of show. But, my friend couldn't make it at the last second and didn't want the ticket to go to waste. So when, with a clear view of the stage, Marcus King plays three of my favorite songs, back-to-back, I crack a smile and start laughing for real.
After all, I'm only here by happenstance, anyway.
* * *
Would you have sat or stood in this situation?
onward.
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