Memories in Cincinnati
It was October 1, 2014 when it all started. My best friend Hallie and I went to our first concert together. She is a 5’4, blonde haired, emerald eyed girl. We grew up together all throughout the years of school. People always think she’s all cute, and a girly girl, but in reality she listens to alternative rock, grunge music, and even screamo. She may dress like a glamour girl, but on the inside she couldn’t be more of a punk rocker.
We arrived to Bank Arena in Cincinnati, Ohio around 6:00 that night. After being so flustered with all of the bad traffic and idiotic drivers, we finally found a place high up in a parking garage. For what seemed like an eternity, we reached the long lines of people waiting to get in. Reaching into my pockets to check for my tickets and money, my heart sank.
“Hallie, I have a problem.” I said in a shaky tone. “What did you do now,” she said, giving me a slight smirk. Looking at the beginning of the lines of people I realize we were getting searched by metal detectors before being able to get in. “I still have my pocket knife in the front of my jeans,” I said, looking at her frantically. “They won’t take it from me will they” staring at her with a concerned face.
“Yeah, they’ll take it from you. Why do you think they have metal detectors” she exclaimed to me, with a duh expression on her face. “What should I do with it? My dad just bought it for me for bow season a month ago.” I said to her as we approached the searching area at a snail's pace.
“I don’t know, go dig up the dirt around a flower over there and we will get it on our way out.” she said to me, sensing that I was upset. “You know what? I’m just going to hold it in my hand with my ticket, when they run the wand over me and if they say something I’ll give it to them,” I said, scanning the line coming to an end. Rolling her eyes, she nodded.
When it was my turn, I raised my arms with my pocket knife in my hand with my ticket and the woman waved the wand over me and said, “Okay”, having me move on. I couldn’t believe it, I just got away with something that I never thought I could. After waiting on Hallie to get checked, we walked into the huge arena filled with thousands of people. I stuffed my pocket knife back into my jeans and followed her to the side of the arena where our seats where. Walking through the “chute” as I would call it, leading to the seating area, we looked for about five minutes to find the row and seats we had bought for the night. Sitting down, I realized this is it. My first true concert.
As the lights darkened, the crowd got more and more quiet. The aroma of pot and alcohol reeked through the air. With the flashing of people's cell phones and cameras, I felt like a 90’s grunge kid surrounded by new technology. All of a sudden the whole arena went black. The lights on the stage slowly got brighter. I could see the singer Eddie Vedder walk around to the microphone. Moments later he began to tell the story of The Who, a rock band whose concert ended badly in the very same arena, that the thousands of us sat in. The story made me slightly nervous, but soon it disappeared as his voice began to ring out across the venue. Singing at the top of our lungs we recited every song word for word. Watching Eddie sing, with a big bottle of alcohol in one hand and sweat dripping off his face like a broken faucet, was a sight I will never forget. The music flowed through each and every one of us listening. To this day, it was by far the best concert I have ever been to, and worth every dime.