I have good taste in music. I appreciate the classics, I get into metal, and I love a good singer/songwriter. Oh, and I blog for JellyNYC. That’s worth something, right?
That being said, I’ve crowdsurfed to Train, and I’ll tell you why.
Music Midtown, Atlanta. I’m a junior in high school. I wanted to see Bob Dylan perform. She wanted to see Train. So lame. Train was playing the slot right before Dylan, but on the stage all the way on the other side of the festival. I agreed to watch some of Train (lame) if we could leave early to see all of Dylan’s set. Agreed.
Train was packed. We were in the middle of 10,000 drunk Southerners, and we were trapped. No way were we going to be able to squeeze through all these folks to get to Dylan. As I watched 14 year-old girls crowdsurf above us, I realized it was our only way out. If we crowdsurfed all the way to the front, the security guards would catch us and let us out by the side of the stage.
The plan worked perfectly. But as we were raised on top of the crowd, and the longest ass-grabbing session imaginable began, the opening chords of “Drops of Jupiter” started to play. It was the lamest moment of my life.
Dylan rocked it, though.
