Saturday 7 April 2012

Losing of the Shoe

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Patrick McDonald McDonald 1 September 4, 00


Literature pr. 8


Losing of the Shoe


It was last year, around fall time, and I was so psyched to be going to my first really really good concert that was some popular band. Sure there had been previous concerts, but the handful of others were not nearly as good as this one promised to be. The concert was gonna go on at the house of Blues at the House of Blues, and the bands playing were the Supervillains, the Spitvalves (both of whom would grow to be two of my favorite bands) and Skif Dank. We got there at around 810 and Skif Dank started with their set. For those of you who have never been to a ska concert before, some of the bands sets get crazy, and there is always a mosh pit or a skank pit going on somewhere. (Skanking is the dance that goes along with ska).


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I was, shall we say, a little bit apprehensive about jumping into that swirling cloud of flying limbs, and for the first couple of songs, I stayed up front and away from the action. The band was pretty good, but I was much more excited for the Supervillains and the Spitvalves, who I had been told were the best of the three bands. As I sat there watching, I thought that I would go to the bathroom, but on my way off the floor, I was grabbed by my friend Paul, and pulled into the pit. We all ran around the circle like the dumb-a#$es we were, I thought “Man, I am having so much fun running around this circle, slamming into people, getting knocked off my legs and nearly falling to be crushed under the feet of the other people, only to triumphantly get back up and continue the cycle, that I am going to do this for the rest of the show.”





McDonald


That thought circled around my head, until I got a flat tire from behind, and lost my shoe. Now just sit and think about this for a minute. How could I possibly be such a stupid little kid as to wear skateboard shoes to this, instead of my high tops? I was pretty dumb. So I felt the tug on my foot, and looked down and saw my shoe disappearing among the feet of the huge crowd. I hopped out as fast as I could and took a seat on the stairs. My friend that I was with followed and consoled me on the loss of my shoe. All I could think of was that the night was over for me. I might as well go upstairs, and fall asleep on one of the comfy couches. I might have, had it not been for the couples who were are already occupying them, making out and probably doing other things I will not go into. It’s crazy that these people just sit up there on these couches and make out for the ENTIRE show. Seriously, its like if you don’t get a couch when you first come in, its game over. Paul and I decided it was high time for a bathroom break. We went in and did our business, and just hung in there for a few minutes. Suddenly, Skif Dank had finished their song and they said something over the mike that I could not hear. Paul looked at me and said he had heard something about a missing shoe. I thought “Holy God” if I get that shoe back I will never do drugs and never have pre-marital sex. And with that thought, I hopped after Paul as best I could. When we got down to the first floor, I looked up, and framed in a golden halo, was my beloved shoe. Thankfully there was no music playing so their lead singer heard me yelling, “That’s my F&#%ing shoe!!”


He yelled at me “Okay, if you can prove that it’s your shoe, you can have it. Just show me the other one!”





McDonald


I made a few feeble attempts at lifting my leg up, but he could not see my foot. Suddenly I felt these big arms grab me from behind, and I thought “Holy God this guy could chuck me up on the stage from here.” As these big ‘ole arms lifted me up, I lifted my leg, and showed the singer my remaining shoe, and he tossed me the other one. He put me down and I slipped my shoe back on and retied it until it cut off the circulation to my foot. I turned around and gave the jolly green giant who lifted me up a big hug, and thanked him profusely for helping me. This beast of a man was actually a friend of Paul’s friends, and I am eternally grateful to him.


After that I stayed out of the pit for a while, but could not resist and, with my newly tied shoes, I went back in and enjoyed an awesome concert. That was without even the slightest shadow of a doubt the best concert I have ever been to.





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