Sunday, February 5, 2012

No. 851 – Desire

Performer: U2
Songwriters: Bono, The Edge, Adam Clayton, Larry Mullen Jr.
Original Release: Rattle and Hum
Year: 1988
Definitive Version: None

Jack Dawson’s got nothing on me.

Shortly after Jenna and I started dating in 1992, she asked if I wanted to go see U2 on the stadium leg of their Zoo TV tour. Of course. I’d never seen them; I’d never been to the Pontiac Silverdome—the site of a legendary Who concert in 1975—and any extra time spent around Jenna was something to be desired. Her friend, Chrissy, whom I knew, had the tickets and was getting a group together. She had seven tickets. Cool.

We all met up at the White Horse, but it turned out that Chrissy was able to unload only four of the tickets. So, it would be me and Jenna, Chrissy and a friend of Chrissy’s who, as I found out, was the wife of a guy who was an international motocross rider. He was famous enough that even I knew who he was.

I offered to drive, and they wanted to eat at a Japanese steakhouse down near Pontiac. It was good, and because I was sure I made way more than they did (and because it was good form), I picked up the check. It was a fair amount back then but an amount that if I were to drop that much in Chicago, I’d think it was just the standard going rate for four people.

When we got to the Silverdome, I went to the bathroom while they got a drink, and then we walked to our seats.

Let me set the scene for you: It’s me and three women walking together, but it’s not just any three women. The motocross wife was blonde and dressed demurely in blue jeans and a blue checked shirt. She was an 8, and if you saw her, you would think she was just your classic attractive woman.

Chrissy, on the other hand, looked like a Penthouse model. She was close to 6 feet tall and wore knee-high black boots, black hot pants and a silk chemise with her long brunette spiral curls draped over her shoulders. She was a 10.

And Jenna. Jenna was a real-life Barbie doll—blonde and perfectly sculpted. She wore a jean skirt and jacket, which covered a white tank top. (This fact would become important after the concert when we walked back to the car … in the rain). She also had curled her hair that night, and if she could have looked hotter, I don’t know how unless she wore just a bikini.

So, here’s the visual: Two jaw-droppingly hot women and their attractive friend who normally would’ve been the hottest one in her group … and me in the middle. There must have been at least two dozen dudes who turned their heads as we walked by. Yep, check me out, guys. King of the world.

Umm, can we walk around some more before the show?

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