I was assigned security for a concert that I had been waiting for 15 years. I spent $500 on two tickets for front row and I had a limo reserved. It was going to be one of the best nights I had in a long while. Suzy was going to go with me and I knew I was DEFINITELY getting some that night. The music, the money,the pure ecstasy of seeing my favorite band. And it all went to hell.
F'ing Chuck got in a car wreck and broke his arm. Johnny went into rehab for 'roids. Next on the list to work-good ole me. So, I had to cancel everything, including my date. I was depressed, angry, mad at the world. But there was a bright side. I could still go to the show. I just had to work.
You see my occupation is in concert security, so I get to hear numerous acts, standing there with my back to them while I cart off drunk teenagers and middle aged men for playing grabass. It's alright. Pays good, keeps me in shape.
So, I had to go stand in front of my favorite band, but focus on the crowd at the same time. It would be a challenge to perform well and enjoy the music. So, I did some cognitive training. I went and watched tennis matches and kept score while talkin on my cell phone. I did pretty well. Then, I went to my gym and jumped on and off the treadmill while it was running while simutaneously changing the song on my ipod. I was getting good at this multitasking thing. So, the day before the show, I climbed up a 24 ft. ladder with a crystal bowl, threw it up in the air, climbed down the ladder, somersaulted and caught it. I am not sure if that helped me train at all, but it sure pumped me up.
When I got to Tropicana field , the place was empty. It was tough watching the crowd grow and grow knowing I could have been one of them, smashed, yelling at my date to quit looking at other guys.It made me understand how the security crew for Woodstock must have felt. But it's all good. When the opening band came off and the headliners, my heroes, were getting ready, my heart started racing. I felt like I was going to a high school dance for the first time. Just then, some idiot threw a beer at the stage, so I caught it in mid –air, jumped over the metal gate and popped him one. Or her one. It doesn't matter.I wasn't gonna be bothered with bullshit and I was making it extremely clear. I was there to listen first and conduct crowd control second.
When the group came on, the place roared. I glanced back a few times, but my boss, Old Man McKinley kept giving me dirty looks. By mid-set I was drenched with sweat.I was enjoying it, but needed more. Just one turn and look at my boys. I decided, screw it, if they play my favorite song, I am going up there on stage. At that exact moment, like divine intervention, I heard the opening words to Hangin' Tough. I turned and locked eyes with Donnie. It was on. I jumped on stage and started dancing with the one and only NKOTB.
I was DEFINITELY at a high point in my life, until what I thought were my friends and colleagues were yelling at me to get off the stage. I told them NO WAY!. So, they had the nerve to try and take me down, but it wasn't gonna happen. Not during Hangin' Tough.
Before I knew it my moment of glory was diminished as I now had to take on the most elite squad of concert security these United States have ever known. My boss, Old Man McKinley stood calmly behind the crew as he sent A squad to handle my downfall. He was cold,confident and calculating, but he also was forgetting...I trained the A squad.
3 came at me at once, 2 from the side with 1 from behind. I was so ready I didn't even have to stop my Hanging Tough dance. I just grabbed the 2 from the side while my arm was already waving from left to right and smacked their faces into each other. The 3rd guy thought he was slick sneaking up behind me, but I knew he'd be coming, and simply fused a triple spin with a sweep kick to the leg, and took the punk out without even missing a beat.
I looked to my right, and in all of the action it didn't even occur to me that I was standing next to little Joey-Joe McIntyre, who in my humble opinion was always the best dancer of the bunch. I realized I was probably stealing his thunder, so I turned and mouthed the words, "I'M SO SORRY JOEY-JOE"
That's when Old Man McKinley broke out the big guns. B-squad. These were all the fat Guido's who tried to pick up chicks by acting like they were connected. Sure they had the weight to throw around...but I had the moves!!
As the B-squad huffed up the stairs to the stage, I came flying stage left into a WICKED knee slide, hand delivering a swift punch to the balls to all 3 squad members before hopping back to my feet with all the grace of a young Lance Bass. I looked back to see if Donny was watching. Donny was always the bad-ass and I figured he'd be sending a nod my way after those moves, but he was too busy dancin'. I couldn't blame him though.
But my moment in the sun was about to turn into a cold burn as I saw McKinley giving the hand signals for the triple squad take down. (coincidently the hand signals were the same hand signals the Cincinatti Reds used for a bunt in 1976, but let's keep that on the DL).
Soon all available venue personnell were bum rushing the stage. Even Greg Stephens, the kid who works the nacho stand, was coming at me. And let me tell you, I've wanted to take a swing at that bastard ever since I found out he sold an eight ball to the road manager of Hootie and the Blowfish.
It turned into total chaos. Next thing I know, I was punching my best friend in the nose, sweep kicking the soundman, and powerbombing Old Man McKinley. I gave the fight of my life but soon they had me down, and a crew of 8 were now dragging me off the stage right in front of the New Kids. I was humiliated. It was as at that moment that a source of rage overpowered me as I looked up at Jon Knight (the George Harrison of the New Kids in MY book) and I let out a roaring "NOOOOOOOOO" while ripping my event staff t-shirt open Hulk Hogan style, revealing the NKOTB-4-LIFE tattoo that ran across my muscular chest.
As my face hit the same pavement that I threw so many drunken punks onto throughout the best years of my life, Old man McKinley made a point to step on my hand. I looked up at him as he warned me not to show my face around here again. Not even to collect the nights pay. He then flicked his cigar in my face and was escorted back inside by the A squad.
I dusted myself off and began leaning against the back of the building where the crowd of 32 year old single mothers flocked around the NKOTB tour bus. Inside I heard the muffled sounds of the last single of NKOTB's hey-day "Step by Step" starting up and as a single tear ran down my cheek I knew a major chapter in my life had come to an end.
I made my way downtown to grab a drink at Murphy's Lounge. The bouncer tried to tell me I wouldn't be allowed in without a shirt, but when he saw the look of loss on my face he changed his mind and told the bartender the first round was on him.
After last call I decided to walk back to my apartment. There were plenty of cabs around, but I needed time to think. As I walked down Broad street I heard someone yell, "Hey Tough-guy". I looked up and saw the NKOTB tour bus stopped at a red light. I couldn't believe it. Donnie had the window down and was yelling towards me. He actually recognized me.
"Nice moves man. Nice moves." He yelled. He took off his dew rag and through it my way and the bus began to drive off into the night.
I gripped the dew rag in my hand and raised my fist in the air with conviction as I shouted at the bus as it drove away from me forever...."NEW KIIIIIIIDDDSS!!!!"
