All By Myself...

The other night I attended my first concert solo. I didn't intend to go by myself -- I bought two tickets with the plan that my husband and I would go see a band that we both like. But surprises sometimes have a way of backfiring -- he had purchased tickets to Game 4 of the ACLS series of the Royals vs. the Orioles. As someone who sees a concert advertised and thinks it would be fun to attend but rarely actually buys the tickets to any shows, I chalked it up to one of those quirky life moments that often seem to find me. I think my fairy godmother is out for a smoke break most days.

So my husband went to see the Royals play with his friends, and I went to the concert alone. I tried to convince my brother and a few friends to attend with me, but a Tuesday night concert for an obscure band none of them had heard of is a tough sell to working adults. (My brother's exact response after he told me couldn't go because my nephew had football practice was "I have no idea who they are...God, I'm old.)

What I discovered is that attending a concert by yourself is similar to going to the movies alone: while it's lovely to have someone with you to share the experience -- someone that you can discuss plot points and share looks with during funny, tense, or scary parts -- it's not absolutely necessary to enjoy a good show.

I've always considered myself an introvert; I love having alone time. It's never bothered me to go to dinner, shop, or find a museum or other activities to do by myself. I've always been that way. Now I can add concerts to that list. Through my solo activities, I've found that most people will open up and include you in their circle of conversation if they see you are alone. Whether it's pity or general interest, compassion, or a combination, most people won't exclude you. I've had strangers try to engage me in conversations at art exhibits or, in one slightly awkward exchange, a woman unknown to me started talking to me about the movie we had just seen -- while we were both peeing in the bathroom post-movie.

The concert experience was no different. A young couple were streaming the Royals game on her phone. When I asked her the score, she tilted her phone toward me so that I could watch with them. She then invited me to move seats to join them so that I could see the phone better. When the second opening act before the main band had a meltdown on the stage, the lead singer storming off stage during the middle of only the second song they had performed that evening, I stared at the stage in disbelief. The guy behind me shared his feeling of disbelief as well, and before long he, his wife, and I were cracking jokes about the craziness of what we had just witnessed. When I moved closer to the stage so that I could perform my freshman shuffle while watching the main act, people around me bobbed their heads in time with me and gave me high fives.

Perhaps because I was alone, I felt more compelled to be more extroverted and make those connections. Or perhaps I've been misleading myself all these years...maybe I'm not quite the introvert I once thought I was. I'm already starting to keep an eye out for my next show...even if it means another solo trip to the music hall. This time I know I can do it.