Friday the 16th, my wife and I went to see The Cure at the Patriot Center. It was my gift to her for her birthday. They were far better than a group of middle-aged guys have the right to be. They played for three hours, including three encores. By the end of the night my hands were numb from clapping. I also experienced this weird thing where they would start playing a song, and I would suddenly realize I knew the song. I never would have guessed I knew as many Cure songs as I actually did. The music was great, but there was also great people-watching as well.
Before the concert we noticed a young couple: one a very skinny, very pale, slightly androgynous guy with spikey black hair with a girl with hair a great shade of green. They were the perfect couple for a Cure concert. They made my inner goth write bad poetry about the world’s pain.
Then there was the guy that looked like Robert Smith will look in about ten years. He had the weird wispy ‘fro thing that Smith has going on, and he had the long black, button-down shirt. It was a dead-on Robert Smith cosplay.
Then we had metal girl, pictured below:
She eventually got kicked out, and the only thing I can figure is that she was, in fact, way too metal to be at a Cure concert. That, or she was smoking. I swear I saw smoke coming out of her mouth, but again, that may have been because she was way too metal.
However, the very best people-watching was seeing a girl in section 106, somewhere around row G. Yeah, that’s right, I’m calling her out. Her dancing style could best be described as Jazzercise meets Rocky. With the flailing fists, I’m surprised she didn’t hurt anyone, especially herself. If I had had a video camera, there would be a video of it here and on YouTube.
All in all, the concert was voted the best birthday present ever by my wife, and that’s what really counts.
Babble On For Ever 