extracted from "Left Again at the Womble: The adventures of a middle-aged Dad working at the Glastonbury Festival "
As I sat there
pondering and musing on such thoughts, I slowly noticed that more and more
people were heading past me and onto the Hill. I hadn’t expected that much
interest in Beyonce. I anticipated that there wouldn’t be much excitement about
Pendulum who were on before her; I caught the very last few minutes of their
very last song, but only drifting towards me in the air as I reached the coffee
stall. I don’t think that I had missed out on an earth-shattering performance.
I
thought that if I was going to get to see a glimpse of Beyonce then it would be
advisable to get a better viewing spec, although I’d need one quite near the
edge of the crowd so I could beat what would no doubt be a hasty retreat. I supped
my coffee off and wandered down the Hill. I did think about getting another
drink; but I could get one on the way to see someone else. I’d only be there
for a couple of Beyonce’s songs.
I ended up halfway down (or up) the hill,
facing the centre of the stage, but with enough space around me to head back up
and away. I looked around at the people near to me. There were a group of three
women, I’d guess in their mid to late thirties, all ready to dance along to
Beyonce. Standing with them was one bloke, who I took to either be a
long-suffering partner or an extremely grumpy looking stalker. As much as they
all looked to be up for Beyonce, he was at the opposite end of the spectrum. He
fitted every cliché of a chap being dragged along to the shops on a Saturday
afternoon while the match is on. Apart from them, the rest of the crowd
appeared to be a fairly mixed bunch and certainly not what (in what must be
admitted, was my somewhat blinkered and slightly snobbish predetermined view),
a demographic close to the usual stadium tour audience.
The lights on
the stage dimmed and the crowd grew restless with anticipation you get either
at the match as it kicks off or at a large gig such as that one, I sighed the
sigh of a confirmed cynic. “Here we go,” I thought, “Viva Las Vegas.”
Then…BLAM!!!
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