You’re waiting. Waiting impatiently for the dates to come out. Specifically, that one date. That one date that you clear your schedule for. That one date you wait all winter for.

You pick up those few extra shifts to afford that date off. You beg your co-workers to cover you while you’re gone. You pray that that one date will not break your bank account.

Then it finally comes. You pack the car with the cooler, snacks and stock a playlist full of all your favorite hits. DD’s are assigned, shot gun is called, and next thing you know, you reach the end of what seems like a lifetime of traffic.

Time flies, and it seems like you have only blinked and you see a line miles long of tail lights. An empty cooler, a car floor full of snack crumbs and a wallet that could use some love.

All for a few hours of noise. Noise, that to you, is pure magic.

Concerts, they ruin well nourished bank accounts and piss the boss off. They are however, worth every second. The feeling of the music soaking into your skin and your feet getting sore from jamming out. That film of sweat, spilt beer, and concert gunk on your skin. Every little piece of that date, makes it all worth it.

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