I won the tickets from the local radio station.
Bo Diddley’s playing at the House of Blues, the DJ said. Be the 10th caller and win two tickets.
I was at work. It was a slow evening, and there were no customers in the store. I picked up the phone, dialed the radio station’s number. Busy signal. I hit redial Busy signal. I hit redial.
You’re the tenth caller, the smooth DJ voice said.
I was going to see Bo Diddley!
Later than night I called my housemate who also happened to be the man on whom I had a huge crush. I didn’t have the courage to ask him to go to the show with me. Instead, I told him I’d won two tickets and asked him if he knew anybody who might want to go to the show with me.
Do I know anybody who’d want to go to the show with you? he asked incredulously. I want to go to the show with you!
To this day, I’m not sure if he wanted to go to show with me or if he just wanted to go to the show.
I didn’t know much about Bo Diddley. I’d heard that “Who Do You Love?” song and that’s about it. Free tickets were awesome, and now I had a date, so I didn’t much care what the music was like.
I can’t remember if we walked together from home on the night of the show or if we met at the House of Blues. I just remember being there and my crush saying he’d buy the drinks since I’d provided the tickets. I told him that plan sounded fair to me.
We started drinking right away.
Bo Diddley took the stage, and he ROCKED THE HOUSE! He was skinny, and he was old (66 at the time), but there was nothing feeble about the way he played and sang. My crush and I weren’t the only members of the audience on our feet. Lots of us were dancing our asses off.
At intermission, we struck up a conversation with some earnest young Canadian men on vacation. One of them asked what kind of work we did. My crush told them I was a stripper, and to my complete amazement, the Canadian men believed him! Maybe Canadians have a different standard of beauty than Americans because eve then, in my early 20s, I was not stripper material.
The second half of the show was as good—no, better—than the first. Old Bo still had plenty to give his fans.
Can you see ok? my crush asked me. Let me put you on my shoulders so you can see, he offered.
We were on the balcony, so I could look down and see the stage pretty well. However, I was not going to turn down physical contact with this man I liked so very much. He leaned down, and I climbed up, throwing a leg around either side of his head. Woowie! Yes! This was fun!
It wasn’t long before a security guy come up to us and told my crush to put me down. That good time was over, but Bo Diddley played on.
As all good things do, the concert came to an end. The crowd roared, but the show was over.
I was feeling good, a little drunk, a little loose, happy. I’d just had a lot of fun at that show.
My crush and I walked home to the large house we shared. We were laughing and talking, and I was hoping to get laid. The other times we’d had sex, we’d usually been out together drinking, then came home and prolonged the night by falling into bed together. While—sure—it was about the sex for me, it wasn’t only about the sex. I really liked the guy and hoped one of these times we fell in bed together, he’d fall in love with me. Maybe tonight would be that night.
My hopes were dashed as we approached the house, and I saw the car parked in front.
Oh! Gretchen’s here! my crush said with more excitement than he’d expressed all night.
Gretchen was the women with whom he was in love. It was apparently going to be love triangle night in our house.
Gretchen had dozed off in the front seat of her car while waiting for us. My crush was all smiles as he tapped on the window to wake her. He led her inside the house and to his bedroom, as I went to my room to spend another night alone and unloved.
