Day 172

Confession: I would often recall a specific memory at a concert, but couldn’t remember where exactly it happened. Coworkers and I went together many years ago. They drank the whole busride there. A stranger strategically snuck me onto the floor. Their friend sat me up on his shoulders—which curiously invited a man to smack me on the ass as I was lifted, spilling his beer—then used my feet to kick our way to the front where I pumped my fist in the air with Tim McIlrath.

I’m not sure if the singer approved of our efforts and I didn’t have long to find out before security was working their way towards us. Before I could dismount from my ride, I looked down and saw a traitor I once knew, and he saw me—fist up in the air in beer-spilt clothes, rocking out with his favourite artist. He quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Today I worked in that same building and finally have a name for a very strange night.

Sound of the day: Rise Against – Prayer of the Refugee https://youtu.be/OHDEnpnhS-4?si=VYepTM4z5SEI7yR-