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[sorry, sorry, sorry… busy, busy busy… here goes part 2…]

I finally found my way to the Greek Theatre. It’s been a long time since then, so I couldn’t really tell you where it is. Somewhere near that big “HOLLYWOOD” sign, I think, JFGI. When I got there, I got out of my jeep and walked up to the ticket booth to ask if there were still any tickets to the show that night. Nope, it was definitely sold out. But the parking lot opened at 2:30 and the show started at 7.

The guy standing at the booth next to me had just finished having a similar conversation and we looked at each other with sympathetic dejection. As we walked away, we started talking. I found out that he, Bart, and his friends had driven up from San Diego to sell grilled cheeses and tea in the parking lot. Yep, those people. I explained to him that I was on a mission to see that show, and he suggested that I hang out with them till the parking lot opened. That seemed like a good idea, so I went to get some beer and parked my beach chair right next to their van with “GRILLED CHEESE STATION” (GCS) painted on the side. We passed the time until the lot opened with the standard hippie parking-lot stuff, passing joints, hacky-sack, Frisbee, passing joints, etc.Preview »

When the gates opened up at 2:30, I drove my jeep in and was the first inside. Following the direction of the parking attendant, I drove up to the front of the field facing the entrance and parked under a nice shady tree. The GCS parked right behind me. As soon as I got out of my jeep, I started asking people for tickets. The first guy I asked had parked just to my left. He said that he might have one if he couldn’t find his friends, but probably not. I introduced myself, and pointed to the GCS, “if it turns out that you do have one, I’ll be there, come find me.”

And that’s they way it went for the next few hours. Bart and I had decided we’d have better luck if we separated. So, I stumbled around that parking lot by myself, like every other idiot looking for a ticket, shirtless, dirty, with one finger in the air, muttering all the common phrases, “who’s got my extra?”, “I need a miracle!”, “cash or trade”. I really really reeeaaalllly wanted to go to the show. I was prepared to spend $80 on one ticket, knowing that was more than twice face value. Having very little luck, I finally gave up and returned to my beach chair to munch on some grilled cheese.

Bart had already been back at the GCS for a while having given up as well. He told me that he would like to go, but didn’t really have the money to pay for a ticket, as they hadn’t really been selling the cheeses like they had hoped. So, his lack of will became mine, and I sat back with another cold beer and convinced myself it was all over.

About an hour before show time, that first guy I had asked came to find me. “Hey, son. You still looking for a ticket?”

“Oh [hump] yeah! Do you really have one? How much?”

“Dunno, thirty?”

“Seriously? Deal.” And I pulled out a twenty and a ten and handed it to him.

He opened up his wallet and pulled the ticket out and handed it to me, then paused. “Here, you want this one, too?” as he handed me a second ticket.

“Well, yeah, sure, I’m sure I can get resell it,” and I pulled out thirty more dollars for him.

“Nah, man. just take it. I’m tired of dealing with it. It’s all yours.”

“Wow. Thanks. Are you sure? I mean…”

“Yeah, you got it. Have a good time.” And like that I had a ticket, two tickets, actually.

I decided that I would give my ticket to my new friend, Bart, free of charge. After all, they had so graciously let me hang out with them all day, and fed me a bunch of cheeses. And I hadn’t paid for it, anyway. So, now we sat outside the GSC in celebration of our good fortune. More joints were smoked, more beers were drank, and they had actually started selling a good number of cheeses.

Twenty minutes from show time, Bart came back over from having taken a leak behind the GCS, and told me that some dude was looking for me over on the other side of my jeep. I got up and walked over there, and sitting on the back of a black pickup truck was the guy who sold me the ticket. “Hey, there you are. Come over here. I’m Joe.” Joe introduced his girlfriend to me. She just giggled as I reached out to shake her hand. “I just met that guy, Bart. He told me that you just gave him that extra ticket. I think that’s the coolest thing I’ve heard in a long time. Do you smoke?” I nodded, and he handed me a joint. As I puffed on it, he said, “Seriously, man. There are a lot of people in this world that would’ve sold that ticket for fifty dollars or more and I hate all those people. I’m glad it went to a good guy.”

“Well, thanks. I’m glad it went to me too.”

The girlfriend giggled.

“Ha. Yeah. So, we’ve got all this extra honey. It’s got mushrooms in it, and we’re pretty screwed up right now. You want the rest of it?” He held up a medium sized mason jar with a spoon sticking out and the lid half off.

Giggle.

“I don’t know about the rest, but sure, I’ll take a scoop.” And I dipped the spoon in and took a big mouthful. “Thanks.”

“Oh crap. That was a big scoop. You oughta be pretty effed up when that hits you. Here take the rest, if I eat it, I’ll absolutely lose my mind again.” Then he looks and me and grins. “Don’t ask.”

Giggle.

“Um… OK, I guess.”

“Now you go run off, I think we should go find out seats while we still can. We’ll see you later, after the show.”

“Sounds good, and thanks again. Have a good show.”

“Yeah, son, you too. I know you will.”

Giggle, giggle.

After they turned and walked away, I went back over to the GCS to share my find. Needless to say, everyone was very grateful. They all took a scoopful, and just for good measure, I took one more. As did Bart. Then we walked away from the GCS, tickets in hand, giggling and giddy to finally go see the Allman Brothers at the Greek Theater.

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