So they don’t call me Rajdeep for nothing! I like to dig deep when I meet someone, especially when I like them. That’s what I get for reading all those Encyclopedia Brown and Nancy Drew books growing up. Somewhere deep down, I think I’ve always wanted to be an investigative reporter of sorts. But in the end, its people I adore, individuals and their stories, and when I am drawn to you, I just need to ask you a question. Or two.
Hubby, accepting this side of my quirky personality, in conjunction with supporting my writer dream, splurged on a V.I.P. pass for me for the Deep Hits Tour, in hopes that I could get up close and personal with some of the performing artists and write-up a story or two. Of course. Truth is, I’ve never been a V.I.P., and I had no idea what the extra ticket actually encompassed.
I arrived on the day of the concert and hubs and the girls dropped me off in the already assembling line an hour before the doors opened. Wow. Did that guy in the front camp out last night? I’m glad I got here when I did. There are at least thirty or so folks in front of me.
When the doors open, I stroll in, following the crowd and adhere to the usher’s directions, “You can make your way up to the stage. There are no assigned seats.” So what do I do? I walk right up to the first row and find the one empty seat next to a big guy who is sort of spilling over to the empty seat and put my purse and coat on it. “Is this seat taken?” He shakes his head no, so I say, “It is now.” Continue reading