Then it’s Saturday and I’ve been in Athens for maybe 10 hours and then I go to the gym. I will be going to the gym every day while I’m here, maybe five to six times a day actually, because I have nothing else to do, so I’ll write about it at a different stage.
Then I go to see Madonna.
I arrive at the Olympic Stadium along with another 74,999 punters and I wait for my friend Christina, but Christina is always late so I’m stood outside there waiting for 45 minutes. And I don’t know if everyone is suddenly gay in Athens or it’s just because of where I am, but everyone is suddenly gay in Athens. Is it wrong that I kinda like this? At the time when I moved away – in 1998 – I can honestly say that no one was openly gay here. But now they seem to be. Which can only be good.
Then Christina decides to turn up and then we go in. I like how I wrote this sentence nicely succinct there, like the whole process of trying to go in didn’t take 1.5 hours, but anyway.
Then we’re in and we may have tickets for the arena instead of seats around the stadium, but unfortunately we’re in something called “Pitch B” as opposed to “Pitch A” where all the action is going on. I.e. we’re quite far back.
Anyway, then Robyn comes on to support but sadly Robyn is completely unknown in Greece and I’m the only one who cares, and then Madonna comes on and plays her songs. I think I can make her out somewhere in the distance.
The highlight of this concert for me, however (apart from She’s Not Me) are the people around me. I’m not even going to pretend I’m surprised by this, but I think I’m surrounded by the two worst groups of people in the whole stadium. This is of course an exaggeration and they probably thought the same of me, but there you go. This is my blog.
In front of me, there is a full-on family from the Northern suburbs of Athens (i.e. rich), with (a) minimal interest in the concert itself and (b) maximum interest in telling everyone they know that they went to see Madonna. They stay immobile during the whole show, which I suppose makes sense, because a tied sweater around the shoulders can get easily messed up / ruffled if you move.
On my right hand side there are two girls (women?), late 20’s, immobile as well, but also very bitter. They stand there with their arms crossed and they only occasionally break the character of “I’m not impressed” to glance over at me in a disapproving way. Because I act like I want to be there. The best moment occur, when:
At one point one of them decides to take her own back I guess, and starts dancing, no wait, elbowing me as some form of revenge I guess. What she doesn’t realize is that, a) I don’t mind at all, I go to concerts and expect people to bump into me, jump up and down and generally invade my space. That’s why I wear insanely bad clothes that I don’t care if they get destroyed, and don’t put anything in my pockets, in case I lose it. Regardless, because she’s doing this on purpose I’m a bit annoyed (not much) and form the following dialogue on my head:
Me: Have you ever been to a concert before? You know people are expected to move, right?
Her: Something rude and bitter
Me: It seems that you require a few slaps and I’m very willing to give you them. And don’t think that you won’t because you’re a girl.
(This much is true: I’m small and I’m gay so all rules that apply to men hitting women are surely not valid in my case).
Then nobody hits anyone, then we go home.