Yakima. Google it. I’m pretty sure the definition reads as follows:

Yakima (yak’·uh·maw) a city in BFE. Cow town. *cue “One Horse Town*

I really didn’t think I would be able to score a ticket to this show. And being as it’s in the aforementioned BFE, a good 2 and 1/2 hour drive over the mountains to get to, never mind my previous front row experience which has spoiled me forever, I had no intention of considering anything less than Row 3.

My day before the concert started bad. I got up, said something that *I* thought was nice, and got yelled at about it. Screw it. Went back to sleep. Got up again, said something (different) *I* thought was nice to someone else, and got yelled at about it. Screw it. While I’m curled up in the corner, feeling sorry for myself, I might as well make it really pitiful and check for tickets to Elton in cow town and wallow in the fact that I won’t be getting my gig fix anytime soon.

I type in “1″ under ticket quantity, faithfully reproduce the jumbled captcha letters, and hit “find best available ticket” and wait. The screen pops up that a ticket is available, so I read the location, fully expecting the same seat I’ve been finding for the past few weeks: on the floor but “way back” in row 12.

*blink*

I reread to make sure I’m not misreading.

LEVEL: Floor SECTION: 1 ROW: 1 SEAT: 4 Row 1…

Row 1???? Seriously… Row 1!

“Purchase”

OMG PURCHASE!!!

Concert Day

The drive there is uneventful, though I did learn a few things.

1)My car does indeed, like to go fast. And it likes to do so even while, and perhaps even more, when