Stand up set at Flappers August 25, 2022

The Opposite of Good

 If you were to ask  Worst concert I've ever personally witnessed?

 Easy.  Backstreet Boys "Back in Black" Tour Staples Center, Los Angeles, 2001

However, it turned out to be one of my "Best Night Ever!"s, due in no small part to the members of the band themselves, so I have to give them props for being nice guys. Anyway, here's my worst concert/best concert experience ever. 

My best friend and I were given tickets to see the Backstreet Boys for their second (and final) show in L.A. during their "Back in Black" Tour.  These tickets were given to us by a close friend (who was engaged to a member of BSB at the time) and were not only gratis, but, quite arguably among the best seats "in the house." Plus, we had *full, unrestricted access* passes (the ticket "package" given to us at Will Call included these lanyards with clear plastic pockets to put our tickets into; we were instructed to wear them like badges) which allowed us to go ANYWHERE in Staples Center we wanted--in other words, unrestricted, all-access passes. In other words, we were *ballin' like ballers in the most ballin'est ballparks in balldom* (the Staples Center).  

All ballin' aside, I was, in fact, not at all interested in seeing the Backstreet Boys perform.  I'd met my friend's boyfriend (who shall remain nameless, so as to protect the innocent--and myself, who is not so innocent, plus, it's totally immaterial to the story) before, and he was a nice guy, but I was a 30 year old KCRW subscriber (and employee) and former hip hop and gangster rap club dancer. I was many many miles outside of the range of the BSB target demographic. What songs I had heard, I hated. I did not know one word of their lyrics or the title of a single song from (any of) their album(s), (with the possible exception being "Bye Bye Bye." But I'm not 100% sure if I know that now, after having seen them perform). Still, my BFF, whom I'd gone to the concert with was totally into them; our good friend was engaged to a member of the band and the tickets were free so, we went. We got there about an hour early (we'd been invited to hang with the band before the show, which we planned to take full advantage of, especially the free booze and sushi platters and sliced meats and cheeses and other delicious snacks). 

The sidewalks around the Staples Center will call window were already packed with kids half our age, but the line for the Will Call was surprisingly short and very fast moving.  At the will call window we found out that we had been given four tickets instead of just two.  My BFF turned to me and said, "Let's sell these tickets. We'll make hundreds, for sure!"  I was fairly non-plussed by this suggestion due to the fact that a.) it was illegal and b.) we hadn't paid for the tickets ourselves.  "I think we should find someone cool to give them too. It feels weird to sell something that we got for free..."  She was annoyed, mainly because XXXX was really more her friend than mine, and therefore the tickets more hers than mine but, to her credit, she compromised, saying: "I'll see if i can sell the tickets. If I don't find anyone in the next ten minutes, we'll give them away. But let me see if i can sell them first."  I knew that she was going to have zero problem selling full access passes to one of the giddy, moon-eyed middle-schoolers, circling in packs nearby, but I merely nodded in agreement. She walked off, evaporating like mist while I stood there, uncomfortably adultish. 

I noticed a 15 or 16 year old girl and her mother, who looked to be my age (just turned 30), both wearing BSB memorabilia, clutching matching BSB cds (presumably) ready for autographs from the band.  Sitting awkwardly on a cement planter, the mother had this sad look on her face, while the daughter stood next to her, valiantly attempting to cheer her up. As I walked by, I heard her saying, "Mom, it's totally fine right here, we'll hear them! It's great! Don't be upset! We're here! It's okay!"  I walked over and sat down on the planter next to theirs, pretending to fix the strap on my stilleto. After a few seconds, I caught the girl's attention just as I'd finished fixing my strap.  "Hi." I said, "You two going to the concert? Are you big BSB fans?"

"Big, big fans. The biggest!" The girl said, smiling happily. While the mom shook her head responding with a strangled croak, "No...no tickets."  To which her daughter chirped happily and unfazed, "Oh, mom, stop!" Leaning over towards me, she whispered, "She's just upset because we won't get to actually SEE them.  She's an even bigger fan than I am. Not at first, she wasn't, but she bought me tickets last time they were in LA and came to see them with me and just got blown AWAY. She became obsessed after that, that's how good they were. Now we both love them. Love. Love. Love."  

Her mother continued to brood silently, and she went on, talking to me just out of her earshot. "My mom is amazing. She saved up for weeks to buy those tickets for me. Yeah, they were in the nosebleed section, yeah, you could barely even see them, they were so far away, but she did it because she knew it would mean the world to me. That was before she even liked them, she did that." She looked over at her mom. "That's very sweet." I said, nearly rendered mute from my own rushing emotions.  "But, she couldn't afford it this time, the cheap ones sold out too fast.  We were hoping we could find someone who's selling their ticket for a good price but they're all scalping.  I mean, they're charging like, 100 for the cheapest ones. Mom! Don't be sad! It's no big deal!" 

I reached over and touched her mother's shoulder. She looked at me, clearly uncomfortable with the invasion of her personal space.  I looked straight at her and said, as calmly as I possibly could,  "Please stay here. DO NOT MOVE."  But inside I was panicking.  What if the tickets are already gone!?  It's already been at least 10 minutes! I found my friend, literally in the process of selling the tickets.  "Stop! Stop. You cannot sell those tickets!"  To the potential buyers, "Sorry, so sorry! The tickets are not available.  They are not for sale." The two Persian mega-fans who'd already fished out their wallets started thrusting the cash at her, trying to finalize the transaction in spite of my protestations.  I wedged myself in between them, while my friend contemplated the wads of cash just beyond her reach.  I grabbed her by the arm and marched her away, saying, "Look, I'll buy them from you. I'll get money out of the next ATM we come to. Please, you cannot  sell those tickets." Kelly looked at me, then down at the tickets, then over at the two Persian dudes and then back at me...and handed me the tickets.  The two Persian dudes started saying some aggressive shit to Kelly in Persian, who immediately matched their anger and then some screaming, "Fuck you, assholes! You think because I speak Farsi that I'm your bitch? That's my best fucking friend in the whole world, so she gets the tickets, arright? You don't like it? Well fuuuuuuuck you!" The last part said while giving them the middle finger on both hands as she followed me, but walked backwards away from them so she could continue giving them "double birds."   

So, we walked back to the mom and her daughter (Let's call them "Donna and Crystal" because (I think) the mom's name was Donna and the daughter's name was Crystal or Kristen or Christa (but I'm almost positive it was Crystal)  I handed them each their own lanyard and invited them to hang out with us in the band's dressing room and meet them and take pictures with them and then to see the show.  

The daughter immediately started screaming and jumping up and down.  She pogoed around and screamed incoherently, while her mother went strangely ashen. I thought she was going to throw up or faint. She whispered, suspiciously,  "Are you serious? You're not messing with me? You really have extra tickets? All access passes?" She looked confused. "And you're just giving them to us?"  My friend and I nodded. Finally, her paranoia ebbed and a dazzling smile stretched across her lips. Then she turned towards her daughter and they grabbed each others arms and trampolined together on the sidewalk for a solid minute, screaming,  "Oh my God!" repeatedly, hugging each other and laughing hysterically.  Then, the mother broke down, sobbing, saying "I can't believe this. I can't believe this! I'm in shock. I can't believe you're doing this!" Her daughter, shocked by her mom's emotional breakdown, finally revealed her age, "Mom! You're crying! Stop! This is so embarrassing!"  Which snapped her mother from her apparent hysteria and she composed herself and we made our way inside the massive arena.

The four of us got to the Backstreet Boys' dressing room, where we were met by XXXX (*I'm going to not reveal her name for privacy purposes) as well as the members of the band and their respective girlfriends and/or wives and members of their entourages.  We introduced Donna and Crystal, who both screamed and laughed uncontrollably when each band member walked over to introduce themselves.  All of the band members graciously smiled and took pictures with them, signed their t-shirts and the inside of their cds and seemed genuinely touched by their adoration and devotion. AJ McLean even took the time to talk to them and ask "how many times they'd been to one of their concerts?" (Donna 5 times and Crystal 2 times, counting the performance that night). Kevin Richardson (Donna's favorite, she was utterly smitten) barely even smiled at her, and he had the worst case of "dead-eyed celebrity" I've ever encountered, and I've met Courtney Love, Paris Hilton AND Matthew McConnahey, and KR eyes were hands down the absolute DEADEST.

The concert was a blur. At first, I watched the band perform, our seats were less than a yard or so from the stage, we could, if we wanted to, reached out and touched them when they walked by us on stage, I could see the sweat beading on the upper lip of one of the performers during the opening song, and I remember worrying that his makeup would smear. But, I quickly grew depressed and agitated, disappointed with their cheesy, unsophisticated choreography and how stiffly and awkwardly they executed it. Wooden and uninspired, they danced like beta-mode robots but without the clean precision of a robotic. I don't like their music and therefore cannot comment on whether or not they performed it well, but I am fairly certain they were lip-synching, and that is, to me, the hallmark of a bullshit live performance. It didn't seem to faze Donna or Crystal, who lip-synched right along with BSB, except with more enthusiasm and intensity, and infinitely more charm. I would have preferred watching Donna and Crystal all night, but that would have been creepy/awkward, so I put on my big girl panties and endured the concert like the adult woman that I am.

After the concert, I drove Donna and Crystal home to their apartment in Culver City. Donna told me about Crystal, how she was so smart and such a good daughter, and Crystal started to cry and tell me how amazing her mom was. It was really emotional. I have not seen or heard from either of them and wish them nothing but the best, because that night would have been excruciatingly unbearable without them to remind me of how lucky I am and how much I take for granted...  

However, nothing, and I mean nothing will ever get me to go to another Backstreet Boys concert again. There is no amount of money, no trip or fancy prize that could ever compensate for the awfulness that is their live performance. BARF.