We're inside now, which is nice as it's a bit chilly outdoors.
The last time I waited in line like this was for tickets to David Bowie's 1991 Sound + Vision tour. My girlfriend, Katie, and I drove to the ticket outlet at 5 am. It was freezing out, and a dozen or so fans were there already, but they were still in their cars, thus violating a major rule governing queuing up for concert tickets: no matter the weather, you wait in a line outside.
We boldly strode to the doors and sat down. Slowly, the others emerged from their car and joined us. One guy engaged us in some pleasant conversation before awkwardly stuttering that he had been there since 2 a.m. and, surely, we would let him in first.
" Well," I replied, "you weren't at the door."
For the next several hours, I think he and the others thought we were bluffing. The atmosphere was tense, and when the doors opened, Katie and I rushed in to the ticket window and placed our order.
No one had a chance to object, and we ended up scoring font-row center tickets.
At the concert, the 2 a.m. guy spotted us from his 8th row seat. He was, rather inappropriately, in full Ziggy Stardust regalia, and shouted angrily at us. We smiled and waved, and, later in the show, took great pleasure in watching the decidedly anti-glam Mr. Bowie recoil from his touch.
One minor downside of the Internet has been that it eliminates the necessity to wait in line for concert tickets. Although, maybe my memories are better than the reality was. I don't think I'd want to wait in line anymore, but it was ok as a teenager. The wristband system (in which the line order was determined by luck-of-the-draw) ruined the experience anyway. As did the practice of venues giving away all the good seats to corporations.