“Wanna go see Madonna tonight?”
That was the text I received Sunday afternoon. I’d just gotten up from a much-needed nap. My body ached and I knew my annual Autumn cold was trying to rear its ugly head. Head throbbing, muscles sore from working a magical wedding the night before (into the wee hours), I was shaking, and just felt yucky. I nearly typed back, “hmmm…” Instead, I remembered a conversation she and I had earlier this year when we were discussing our Resolutions. “Bianca, I need to you to keep me accountable to these. I want to have more nights out. We are NOT old!” This has become our little mantra for the past 10 months. When we have free moments and she and I can go out, I pull out the “We are NOT old” card and we have a good ol’ time.
She’d purchased the tickets long ago, thinking she would sell them, hopefully at a profit. Instead, after 5 failed attempts at selling them, they were in her hands. On her end, she’d started a bathroom re-do, and was painting. She fully prepared to add another coat of paint. But my positive response to be her wingman that night had her thinking otherwise. We threw on some clothes, came up with a plan and called upon the 8-15 year old versions of ourselves. Don’t get me wrong. I like Madonna. During those aforementioned years, I LOVED Madonna. Never in my life would I have thought I’d get to see her perform live. I don’t really remember her coming to Texas (in fact, I think someone said it has been 10-20 years since her last visit to Dallas). When she did come, tickets were in the hey-you-are-out-of-your-damn-mind range. Cherish, Holiday, Like a Virgin, Vogue, Like a Prayer, Material Girl…all favorites. Her attention to detail for performance is top notch. I admire her. She’s the first female to define her own rules and be successful in a male-dominated industry. I may or may not agree with her controversial acts, but I do admire her business acumen (or ability to recognize the right people to surround herself). But was I chomping at the bit to see her live? Meeeeeh… (The only time I'm ever taller than her is when I bust out my dancin' shoes. She's nearly 2 inches taller than me normally.)
We laughed and giggled at so many things on the ride over. My sides were aching and we’d not even started dancing! Any time I’m with my best friends, I know it is going to be a great, great time. As we walked over, I mentioned that if the concert was lame, we’d leave it completely and head to House of Blues to see Matt & Kim perform. Although, her husband would have been less than thrilled about that one simply because he’s as big of a fan as I am. Anyway, we walked in and I was blown away (blown.away) by the fashion. Boy howdy, do Madonna fans know how to dress. “Dayum!” No really, that’s what I said. So many, many beautiful gay (and a few straight) men in tailored apparel working the hell out of the halls of the AAC like it was a runway. I was incredibly glad that I decided against wearing my Helvetica tshirt and Chuck Taylors.
We got our drinks (Smirnoff Ice and a glass of vino) and headed to our seats.
The DJ was spinning great beats, I was grooving in my seat, and getting excited for the show. Nevermind that we were almost behind the stage and two rows from the top. And it really didn’t matter when one of our row mates spilled their drink all down my leg. What set me over the edge was the fact that he didn’t even apologize for it. I asked my bff if she wanted to walk around to try to find our friend on a lower level. Prior to leaving, there was this guy wearing a white tank top on the big screen who was tearing it up with his dancing. He was amazing! Flipping his blonde hair, gyrating his body to the beat. I wanted that energy. I could feel the energy from that far away. (that is the screen showing what is going on at the front of the stage. The pointy thing is the end of the stage)
We made it to the lower level. We are lingering there hoping our friend comes out when I think, hmmmm…maybe we can sit closer to people who actually want to be there instead of sour pusses who are bringing us down (when we are already wavering). And so we walk in, past security.We walk down several rows. We keep walking. We are searching for our friend. When I spot him, no, no our friend. I spot white tank top dancing guy! I act on impulse, run over to him and give him a hug. We connect. Just like that. We are dancing. We are laughing. We are hugging and squealing. And then we are on the big screen with him. I look over and the name “Benny Benassi” is flashing across the screen in front of the DJ. Are you freakin’ kidding me??? I love him. How did I not know he was Robert Downey JR’s doppelganger?? Just like that, the concert went from bah-humbug to EPIC! Here’s our new view:
After that dance sequence, we embraced, my new friend and I. We parted with positive words to one another, each of us acknowledging the energy the other brought, covering each other with kisses on our cheeks, giddy at the wonderment of the experience. We were grateful and happy. Here we are together (BOOM...Happy!):
He was such a light! I loved it! We rehydrated for Madonna. My BFF and I telling one another that no matter what, we had to leave by 11:15 at the latest. We were both fighting off something. We both had to get up early for work. “We are NOT old, but we do have responsibilities.” Again, we walked back in to the lower level and struck up a conversation with one of the workers and escorted us to some seats to watch the show. He was a hoot and had many stories to tell!
Madonna opened up with some very dark and controversial numbers. Outstanding set design. Impeccable dance sequences. Spot on costuming (straight up fashion show). She has THE BEST DANCERS! Always, always, always, the very best, most attractive, and physically fit dancers. Right as it was almost time for us to leave, she popped cotton candy and filled up my inner teen with all of the Madonna goodness that I was hoping for. She belted out “Express Yourself” to which I danced wildly (even more so than the other numbers) and sang along. She completed that number and we had to leave. I didn’t want to go, but I needed to go. Good thing too, because I yawned all the way home, barely keeping my eyes open. I was beaming!
Good thing we left when we did. Not an hour after getting home, the Sugarbaby was up fussing. Then wheezing and coughing and bark coughing. Then she took a header, which caused her first-ever nosebleed. Reality slapping me in the face, but you know, I was smiling and still dancing despite my lack of sleep. Thanks, Lindz for a WONDERFUL date night!
When was the last time you went out?