Friday Night Concert in the Park

Somehow I always get talked into going, a phone call from one of the girls saying to meet them at Cesar Chavez park for Concert in the Park. Once agreed upon I spend my work day thinking about how quickly I can get home after work so that I can take off my biz-cas fri, carefully place my lanyard on my bedside table, and change clothes, in time to meet my friends.

As I make my way to the park, I suddenly remember how much I hate going. Yet, I'm about two blocks from my final destination. As I search for a parking spot for the next twenty or so minutes, I debate on going home, but I don't. My phone buzzes a million times with texts asking where the hell I am. I go around and around each block trying to find a parking spot, and finally, 12 blocks from Cesar Chavez I find my spot.

Out of the car the wind whips my face and I can hear the drums. I have butterflies in my stomach and Gio is already complaining that he is cold and hungry and can no longer walk. As I carry him in my arms the next 10 blocks I finally arrive. I wait in line for my red bracelette that signifies I have the ability to mingle in the beer garden. I search for friends, circling the crowd with my eyes, over and over again...they are nowhere to be found, lost in a sea of gorgeous tattooed Sacramento. I decide to get in the drink tickets line and to my surprise there are all of my friends. We each buy $20 worth of drink tickets...then proceed to the beer/wine line.

For the next 42 minutes we hold our place in line. We inch our way up to get a drink and when I'm about five people away from getting my drink, I can no longer ignore Gio's pleas to go to the restroom. So, I hand my tickets to a BFF and beg they get my drink while I go to the port-o-potty line. For the next 23 minutes I listen to Gio cry that he is going to pee his pants. Nobody will allow us to cut in front of them because they are in similar situations. The smell of urine and cigarettes in my nose, while some unknown band jams it to pieces. I'm so mad.

Once out of the port-o-potty, I frantically search for my friends, they are nowhere to be found...did they leave?? Where are they?? I haven't even had a sip of that box wine yet. I feel like crying a little bit, because now Gio is hungry. But, everything is "DISGUSTING!" I finally see my friends, grimaces on faces, wine in hands, yelling at some dude. Because I've been gone for 37 minutes, my wine is 1/4 full and it is now time to repeat going to the beer/wine line.

I tell my friends that I will stay in line this time so they can take their kids to the port-o-potty. I patiently wait in line staring at all the ugly people. Sometimes I see someone I don't want to see and make very small talk. When I get to the front of the line they are out of wine, so I have to get BUD LIGHT. I'm also informed that I can only get two drinks per person, but I promised BFF I'd get her a drink....so I get someone else in line to get a drink for my friend with my tickets. I hold three beers in the corner by the beer/wine line and wait. BFF's emerge 20 minutes later, grab their Bud Light's and we are informed that it is time to go....we have $12 worth of tickets left that we will lose before the next time we decide to go to Concert in the Park.

This has gone on for the last decade. I will see you there.