Liveblogging the Justin Timberlake concert, without the "live" part
Okay, that was kinda great. I met up with the girls for some pre-JT Harps at Fados, then headed out to the Verizon Center to catch the end of Pink's act.
Instead of having regular tickets, Sylvie had printed ours out from her computer. I was first in line and the lady scans, it doesn't work. She does it again, it doesn't work. She smooths out the paper on the table...it doesn't work. Under her breath she starts sing-songing, "Somebody's not gonna get to seeeee Jus--tin." Me: (gasp!) "I will cry myself to sleep!" Grinning, she looks up at me, looks at my friends all holding the same tickets, decides we're just old and ridiculous and not 16 yr olds with Justin for President glitter shirts who stole away on their ten-speeds to escape daddy's strict rules, and waves us all in. Whew.
We are very, very hiiiiiiiigh. I wish I was talking about drugs. I could see Pink's feet through her cleavage.
Stephanie comes back from intermission with a pair of red, hott, $45 gym shorts that say "SEXYBACK" on the rear.
Stephanie is seated on my left, Joy is on my right. A ghost of JT appears behind large white screens that have descended around the center set stage. Icebergs crumble as the decibel vibrations from 10,000 screaming girls reach the Arctic. Except: no Jumbotron? Brutal.
JT breaks into his first single, everyone sheds their sweaters and starts dancing in our tiny, tiny aisles.
Joy, shouting above the din: "I feel like I'm 13!"
Me: "Ha, me too!"
JT breaks between songs: "Hey, is it alright if I tell you guys a story?"
Me and the girl behind me: "WHAT? NOOO!"
JT: "This morning I went to Walter Reed. You guys know Walter Reed?"
A million girls: "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
JT: Proceeds to tell some very long story about what a great celebrity he is for visiting wounded soldiers.
Me, to Joy: "Is Justin Timberlake lecturing me on the war??"
Stephanie and the girl behind me: "TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT!"
JT: Finishes sad, sad story, counteracting the three beers I just had to make it to this concert.
Stephanie, to me: "I WANT TO HAVE HIS CHILDREN!"
JT does a sexy little dance number, Sylvie leans across Joy and screams at me:
"WHERE IS YOUR PRESS PASS WOMAN?!"
About half an hour in, the white screens come down and music video clips are projected on. We're thinking it's a costume change so we're still standing and dancing while listening to Michael Jackson, Missy Elliot, and some other clips...and okay, still watching, shakin' our hips....and it doesn't end. JT has abandoned us!
Me, to Joy: "Where the hell did he go??"
Joy: "My friend said he did this at her concert, half way into his set he left for an hour while a DJ played."
Me: "Did you say an hour?"
Me: "...AN HOUR?!"
To be fair, I'm pretty sure the DJ was Timbaland, but c'mon, JT, I don't even get an hour for lunch everyday. He left again later for quite awhile. Maybe Cameron was backstage begging for him to take her back. "C'mon baby, I'll fart for you! It's sexy, right?" "Listen girl, I'm in the middle of something." "NO DON'T LEAVE ME! I'LL BURP YOUR NAME!" "Cam..."
During a particularly boring ballad, I took off to the bathroom. I have never seen such an amazing sight. No line. Girls were SPRINTING in and out so they wouldn't miss one single second of JT (for president).
I come back from the bathroom and tell Joy and Sylvie, "Dude, this guy waiting in line for beer was checking me out. Is he kidding me? I WOULD NEVER date a guy I met at a Justin Timberlake concert. He's either 1) with his girlfriend 2) gay or 3) a pedophile. And even if he dumped his gf for me I would never date some dude WHO WAS SUCH A PUSSY he couldn't say no when his gf whines for him to take her to a Justin Timberlake concert."
Sylvie and Joy, cracking up, nod to the row in front of us, where a guy was cradling his little bespectacled girlfriend, knowing there's NO WAY they didn't hear everything I was just screaming down the row.
The concert over, we make our way through the throngs to 6th and F, waiting for the rest of our group of seven to catch up with us. Then I see, of all people, our esteemed music editor coming towards me. I suddenly feel a little validated about the $60 I just spent.
So, you can laugh all you want at me going to see JT, but that boy is seriously talented. He's an amazing dancer (though he still keeps using those ridiculous N'Sync puppet moves that creep me out), played at least three different instruments - and I'm fairly certain he was actually playing them - and is managing to do what Christina Aguilera must be dying of jealousy over, that is, moving from tweeny pop star to a bona fide, professional gospel/soul singer. At one point he had a full chorus and half an orchestra backing him up, not to mention these ridiculous back-up singers, and dude, it was good.
Summary: HE DIDN'T TAKE HIS SHIRT OFF ONCE. Rip-off.