Coventry: An essay by TC

I was asked to write a 300 word essay for a Coventry ticket. Even though I knew the person asking me was too drunk to remember, I figured I'd play the game - I like games. So I sat at my computer and, like I so often do when I write, started typing without much thought just knowing I had to hit 300 words. Here's what came out:

Mail Order. Lick the stamp, seal it up, make sure you have everything you need. Self-addressed stamped envelope. Did you write down all the shows? Should you put it in the mail? You know there’s something wrong, you know it. Tickets come and no work can be done even though the shows are a month away. A month a month a month and we’re in the car riding road tripping piling in with food and friends up the Interstate, down the Pike.

The Lot. Cars slowly moving parking weaving through wooks to find the nearest graveled spot to let you out. Wander wander wander. Muffins. “TOUR EXTRA!” What’s shakin down the street? The herd flocks, ‘Let me know,’ they think, ‘I need to know’ and they do know as soon as they turn the corner and hear “Molly Nugs E Paper!” “Phatty veggie burritos!” “Porters Oaties Fat Tire!” Oh, they know all right, they know that their every last temptation desire need love can be found with a simple wave of a hand blink of an eye flash of a dollar. The energy begins to grow.

The Venue. The time rolls near your missions clear, find the nearest bathroom before you head in. Ah, no time, you feel the energy starting to prick the little hairs on your fingers as you make half time plans with your friends that rarely work out. “TICKETS OUT, HANDS UP, BAGS OPEN!” The energy grows. You make it through the doors into a sea of necks and heads, shoulder-to-shoulder you waddle, staring, phriends surrounding and the energy grows. “TOUR EXTRA!” The river of voices build magnify multiply heighten to a point of spontaneous combustion and then and then “WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” The energy is a alive now it feeds you floats you pulls you to grab the shoulders in front of you and start jumping up and down because you want to, because you can. You find your seat and check out your view of the stage waiting in anxious anxiety as you check your watch and estimate the time to the moment the energy has carried you to. And the pre-show music stops. The time has come. Everything you’ve envisioned from the minute you licked that stamp has finally emerged in front of your eyes.

The lights go out.