The Concert Goers

Blame it on the sun.

The sun was near the horizon and shone directly into Dan and Marisa’s eyes while they cheered on the musicians at Center Stage. Their sunglasses didn’t help much but it was better than nothing. They and 22,000 other fans were crammed together into the stadium to see the aging but popular 1970s rockers.

Sweat, loud music, and drinks were in abundance that Saturday afternoon, and Dan was reliving his glory days when he could actually play most of the songs he was now hearing. Dan Kennedy was in a world of his own today. He put his arm around the girl of his dreams and squeezed tight. Marisa looked up at him in total disbelief.

Facing the band, he tilted his head and shouted, “We took forever learning this. Wait for the amazing guitar lick coming up. It’s fantastic. Simply fantastic.”

He took a sip of his drink and yelled at the band, “Bring it onnnn, Roger!!”

Marisa stared at her husband.

Kennedy closed his eyes and felt a tap on his other shoulder.

He looked down and the tap had come from Marisa.

The lady he was side-hugging had Marisa’s hair color and style, matching blouses, and was about her height, but it was definitely not Marisa.

Dan released his side hug and his face turned beet red.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

She looked up, smiled and yelled, “Pleasant while it lasted but I think she’s the one you came with.”

He tried to put his other arm around the real Marisa but she brushed it away and yelled over the music, “Enjoy the music. We can talk later. Perhaps on the couch.”