I rushed to the vending counter because most times theyâ€™ve had some special album at a show itâ€™s sold out fast and Iâ€™ve had to go through tremendous trouble and expense to obtain it. As I was waiting to give the guy my money for anything he was willing to sell me, a guy kind of pushed his way through the crowd. Excuse me, he said, as he went past me. I was almost in the corner where the booth met the wall, but the guy now occupied that space, such that if somebody pushed me, Iâ€™d be crushing him against the wall. His face was mere inches from mine. I just stared at the guy. I was flabbergasted, not because he was rude, but because he was JOHN FUCKING FLANSBURG.
You have to imagine this. You have to imagine one of the two founding members of your favorite band of all timeâ€”a band you just go embarrassingly fanboy overâ€”a guy whose voice has been the soundtrack of your life for over half your lifeâ€”and heâ€™s standing right next to me.