– We are in Sally’s for some reason, Grandma, Aunt, Mom, and I are browsing –
We had been eating at Chili’s a few hours earlier in honor of my Grandma’s birthday. It’s a yearly tradition for us ladies to go out to eat, exchange gifts, and do a quick bit of shopping at Bath and Body Works (and in this case, Sally’s too). Usually, I am extremely excited to be doing this, but this time, I was a bit less enthusiastic. The reason for my lack of excitement was due to the fact that we had originally been planning on sleeping over at my aunt’s little cabin for the night. However, because of previous events, we had to cancel and do another Chili’s outing for the year instead. I was glad to see my family, of course, just a bit upset that the plans didn’t work out. I had been having a really disrupted week and wanted just one thing to go right.
Anyway, we were in Sally’s. I was taking a cool picture of my reflection in some sunglasses when I heard a familiar voice floating out through the speakers in the store. Van McCann of Catfish and The Bottlemen, a recent favorite of mine. Never having heard them on the radio before, I was immediately interested and began paying closer attention to the radio. After the song ended, I strode over to my mom, who was done shopping. In the middle of explaining about the song on the radio, another familiar song began playing: Talk Too Much by Coin. Yet another of my recent favorites. Giddy with excitement from hearing two artists on the radio with smaller followings, I shamelessly began singing in the store. “I like this radio station,” I told my mom.
The little outing with my Grandma and Aunt had come to an end and my mom and I got in our car to head home. Much to our dismay, a good handful of the roads we needed to take to get home were closed for construction. We ended up getting slightly lost downtown while taking a detour. However, upon entering the big city, I noticed a large green and blue billboard which just so happened to be advertising a local radio station. Can you guess what radio station it was? I was ecstatic; all my favorite music in one place! We listened to the radio station the rest of the way home. On the way, a particular ad popped out at me: Bastille (and three other bands) were coming to my state! Bastille was my first concert, and my introduction to the world of music. I was intrigued, after being crushed when I saw my state was not listed on their North American tour.
I turned the radio on in my room when I got home to try to find out more about the upcoming show. It was in December, and the station was giving away tickets for it all weekend. For some reason, that night I didn’t think much of the fact that they were literally handing out tickets every hour and instead, I checked the prices online. The venue is big, and I knew it would cost a pretty penny to get good seats. Discouraged, I turned the radio off and carried on with the rest of the day.
The next morning, I finally got it in my head that I needed to call and try to win the tickets. I was gone for most of the day though, so I didn’t get to calling until 5:00. Each hour, the radio station was giving tickets to caller sixteen. The first time I called, I couldn’t get through and was met with the disappointing beep, beep, beep, of a busy line. I was annoyed and decided to text Jazz (my partner in crime, mentioned in my last post) to tell him about calling in. He wanted to help, and told me he would be able to call from two different phones at seven and eight o’clock.
Six o’clock rolled around, and I was able to get through twice. “Caller two,” the man on the other end said, and hung up. I quickly called back, and managed to get through as caller twelve. Four away. Dang it. At seven o’clock, I got even closer: caller five and fourteen. Jazz was caller six. I was beyond irritated, but then again, I didn’t really have much hope to begin with. The DJ came on the air during a commercial break and said that there was only one more chance to win the tickets at eight. I began to get nervous. I wanted to go to this concert so badly, but I didn’t want to buy tickets after making a few other big purchases and knowing that I was going to be spending a lot of money later this month.
When eight o’clock came, I was prepared and called before he even finished saying that the winner would be caller sixteen. “Caller three.” Click. This time, I waited a few seconds before hitting the call button again, as I had been a bit too early both times before. The line rang, and I felt my heartbeat speeding up. This was the last chance on Sunday night. I wanted the tickets so badly. Suddenly, the line was picked up and I waited for the man to briskly tell me what caller I was and hang up again.
“Congratulations! You’re caller sixteen, you’re going to Bastille!”
I froze, then regained myself quickly. “Really?” I screeched loudly.
“Yeah!” the man says, “Hang on for just a minute and I’ll get your information from you.”
I hurriedly gave him my contact information, and my brother and mom came into my room after hearing me talking loudly on the phone.
“Thank you so much!” I squealed, and hung up after we were done. Then, I promptly broke into tears. “I GOT THE TICKETS!” I yelled. I texted Jazz right away: we’re going to Bastille! My family and I celebrated for a little bit, with me overflowing with excitement the whole time.
And so, on October 23rd the universe decided to give me a happy ending to my crappy week by putting little pieces into place that weekend. First the weekend was cancelled, so that I would go to Chili’s, so that I would suggest going into Sally’s, so that I could hear the radio, so that we would get lost on our detour, so that I could see the billboard, so that I could find the radio station, so that I could find out about the tickets, so that I could start calling the next day, so that I could ultimately win the tickets. Sometimes the universe listens, fellow earthlings. 🙂
Have a day,