Not the Real Deal

 

It was a chilly Fall night, something strange was in the air. Tonight, was the big night, we had been invited to the Elton John concert and were thrilled about it. We had been given the tickets by some friends for the South who just flew up North for this event.

By we, I mean my hot shot businessman boyfriend. We have been together for the past two years, no wedding bells in the air. Been there, done that once, both of us in fact. Besides it was nice dressing up and going out on dates. Between both busy schedules living under the same roof would cause friction due to not having fixed hours to come home.

The theater was jam-packed. There were people sitting on extra chairs that had been added to the aisles after all the people who had a numbered seat had been seated. What it seemed was as if there was a waiting list somewhere in the building just waiting for some one not to make it to the show.

Lights out, music playing an there he was on stage. It didn´t look like Sir John from where we were sitting, which was not far from the stage. The singer looked like a younger version, to my eyes which were starting to fool me. It certainly sounded like him, though.

Rocket Man just ended and out of the blue, Sir John came off the stage and started going up to each person in the audience tipping his hat. The man to my left sitting in a chair placed on the stairs, took a fan of dollar bills and repeated the same action as the singer. When the singer stared at me, fury covered his face. He demanded American currency. I offered local currency, however, in a rage, he ran back to the stage and behind the curtains he disappeared. That was when it dawned on me that all the people in front of me was gone.

What a frustrated evening it was. My dear friends had bought real expensive tickets to a cover band show. He wasn´t a local artist, but, nonetheless, he was not the real deal.

 

Written: October 30, 2021 (based on a dream)

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