On lines.

Lately, I’ve found myself having to wait in lines outdoors for long periods of time. Mind you, it’s February in Michigan. Each time it happens, I say, never again. Actually, when it’s happening I’m usually on the verge of yelling obscenities in public or running to the airport and hopping on a plane to a sunny place as fast as my legs can carry me. Whether it’s a line to a Michigan basketball game, a line to enter a dungy, run-down and should be condemned bar, or a line for a concert, I wonder how the outdoor lines are allowed. Shouldn’t these venues have figured out how to get people inside places fast as lightening speed when it’s below twenty degrees?!

While I was waiting in line last night for an Icona Pop, Matt and Kim and Passion Pit concert, my dear friend Olivia’s neon and weather-proof 80s jacket came in handy when my friend Eric and I started to lose feeling in our ungloved hands and Olivia lent us each a sleeve of her jacket to stick our hands into. Once inside the venue, there was something incredibly liberating repeatedly singing “I don’t care. I love it. I love it” from Icona Pop’s song “I Love It” with a mob of people now sweaty from the surrounding body heat.

The concert was a blast (for me and to my ears) so I guess the line was worth it.