| I owe meeting Hanson to my burning desire for a Wild Cherry Pepsi. Yup. What can I say, I was thirsty. Standing in a line that must have been at least a freaking mile long, in heat that was flirting with the triple digits, wearing a black tank top and jeans, one has a tendency to get thirsty. And the only vending machine that was within a twenty mile radius was around the corner, outside a 7-Eleven. This story has quite the beginning. I found out that Hanson was going to be playing at a local venue near where I live, the FM Kirby Center. I found out from my friend Liz, who casually mentioned it. While she was giving me the details, I was flipping out like a teeny on speed. There are so many “what-if’s” and twists and turns to this story… I suppose I should just go through them one problem at a time. That’s the only way I can remember everything, anyway. There was a problem with getting the tickets to the concert in the first place. There was no way that I actually wanted to sleep outside the Kirby in the cold, with roaches crawling around everywhere, just to get good seats. But I did it. I didn’t know WHY I did it at first… But I realized that, after doing a few hours of pondering, I wanted to see Taylor up close and personal. I had liked Hanson since I was thirteen years old, since MMMBop came out. I was a Fanson from the beginning and I had no intentions of stopping my Hanson Addiction. I went through the whole Teeny Phase, with the lipstick on my forehead at the Hershey Stadium Concert in August of ’98, bringing the stuffed animals to throw onstage, getting pissed if anyone said they didn’t love Hanson, buying $235 worth of merchandise (Official or not) at a time… I was a teeny, I screamed if someone mentioned Tay, I insisted that people call me Ali Hanson, and I was planning the wedding. But I did get over that phase, thank God, and I began to love Hanson for the music that they made. But that didn’t make Taylor Hanson any less gorgeous. And like any die-hard Fanson, I wanted to be front row, Taylor-Side, staring into Taylor’s baby blues while he pounded on the keys and sang Save Me to ME. Not anyone else in the audience, ME. So I resorted to getting my ass to the Kirby at nine PM the day before tickets went onsale. I was prepared to wait in line for thirteen hours, I had the sleeping bag, the CD player and magazines to keep me occupied. I ended up being third in line. I also ended up with Taylor-Side tickets… However. They were in Row BB. My heart fell to the floor when the lady behind the desk told me that. It seemed that if I didn’t have a MOE card, which I didn’t, I had sufficiently screwed myself over by waiting in line for thirteen hours for the crappiest seats on the floor possible. I should’ve gotten the balcony seats, those would’ve been closer. I had to wait a month before the concert – but during that month, I tried my damnedest to acquire better tickets. Radio stations hated me. Scalpers had my number on their speed-dial. The Kirby Center’s Box Office refused to take calls from my phone number. I was desperate to get better seats. DESPERATE. I would have done ANYTHING to get better seats. And I mean ANYTHING. This includes “anyone.” Of course, I didn’t sleep with someone to get better seats. I stopped short when some random DJ from KRZ invited me to the station to try and “win” better seats than the ones I had. I had my car keys in my hand, I was about to… But something stopped me. I think it was my conscience. I can’t be sure. The day of the concert came. I went over to the Kirby, where KRZ was having a contest to get backstage. As soon as I found out what it was, a smile broke on my face and I ran to CVS and grabbed some poster board, a few felt-tipped markers (in red, green and blue), some glitter glue (in red, green and blue), and a few cheap pom-poms for effect. Soon enough, I had myself a “GIVE ME HANSON BACKSTAGE PASSES” sign and I was screaming at the top of my lungs at the same DJ that had wanted to sleep with me for better seats. I was tempted to throw a pom-pom at his head out of frustration and annoyance, but I refrained from my homicidal thoughts and thought about what it would be like to meet Hanson. The DJ gave me a once-over and moved on. Here, I thought I had no chance of winning… But apparently I did. Maybe it was because I had pulled up the front of my shirt and tied it in a knot below my chest and written “KRZ ROCKS” on my stomach. That’s what I’m guessing. I was one of three posters picked, and the crowd basically got to vote for whoever they wanted to win. I was the second to be voted for, and the girl before me got pitiful applause. The poor girl’s face fell. When the DJ held his hand over my head, I couldn’t hear myself think – I was amazed that the screaming was so loud for me. I’m thinking it had something to do with the fact that I pulled the knot out of my shirt and covered my stomach before the voting started. I just about fell over… But there was still one more girl. Her applause was, of course, much louder than mine. Well, there’s twenty bucks I’ll never see again, I thought as I dumped the poster into a nearby trash can. I kept the pom-poms though, you never know when those’ll come in handy. After the poster fiasco, I stood in line for a while, letting the sun beat down on my shoulders, which were already an unhealthy shade of tomato-red. After about twenty minutes of me sweating, I decided that I was thirsty. I informed my friends Sherin and Megan that I was going to be getting something to drink before I died of sun poisoning, and I took off. I made sure I had my ticket in my pocket before I left though, who knew with them. My wanderings lead me to a 7-Eleven a few blocks away. My eyes widened as I saw the Pepsi machine standing in front of the door and my mouth started to water. I walked over to it as calmly as possible and shoved my hand in my pocket for some form of change. I found a couple of quarters that I was supposed to be using for a phone call after the concert, but I would just have to remind myself to steal someone’s cell phone. I stuck the quarters in for a Wild Cherry Pepsi and pushed the button. Nothing happened. I pushed it again, a little harder this time, but still, nothing happened. The little orange light near the button wasn’t blinking, which meant there had to be Wild Cherry Pepsi in the machine. Thinking maybe the light was broken, I pushed the button next to the Diet Pepsi symbol. And again, nothing happened. I began to get pissed off at the machine. My temper had been flaring all day and I was at the point where, if I didn’t get what I wanted, there was going to be some serious hell to pay. So what did I do at that point, you ask… I kicked the machine. I kicked it, hard and repeatedly. I didn’t care who was staring at me like I was crazy, I was pissed off, I was hot, and I wanted my Wild Cherry Pepsi. While I was kicking the machine like a mad woman, a car pulled up behind me. I heard the motor shut off and a door open and close, but I really didn’t care all that much. All I wanted was my Wild Cherry Pepsi, and damnit, if this machine wasn’t going to give me it, I was going to give the machine the beat-down of a lifetime. Until someone coughed behind me to get my attention. I stopped in mid-kick and turned my head, while spitting out a pissed-off “What?” My facial expression must have changed incredibly rapidly, because the guy behind me gave me a weird look. “Umm, do you need any help beating up the Pepsi machine?” I was speechless. Yeah, like the Hanson song. But I had en excuse – Taylor Hanson was standing behind me, his hands in his pockets, giving me a strange look. “Uhh, umm, yeah,” I stuttered, making myself look away from his eyes. I’ll be damned, those eyes really are all the things that fanfic writers say they are – crystalline, azure, and all those other long words I can’t pronounce correctly. I looked back to the machine and moved over while Taylor stepped up beside me. “It won’t give me my Wild Cherry Pepsi and I think I’m going to pass out from the heat.” Wow, those were a lot of words that flew out of my mouth. And I’ll be damned, they actually made some sense. Taylor gave me a half-smile and proceeded to look over the machine. “These things are such a pain in the ass sometimes,” he muttered, bending over to look in the machine where the soda came out. He glanced up at me. “Maybe you should just find another machine…” “Ali,” I supplied. “Ali Morris.” “…Ali,” he finished, standing up. “It looks like this one is jammed somehow. I’m Taylor, by the way,” he said, sticking out his hand. I shook it and smiled. “I know who you are,” I said with a slight smile. Taylor cringed slightly when he realized I was a fan. “Don’t worry, I’m not your typical teenybopper Hanson fan, I’m normal. At least, I think I am.” He seemed to be satisfied with my answer and smiled. “Well as long as you’re not gonna scream or propose or something,” he said, stuffing his hand back in his pocket. “If I was going to scream, I would’ve screamed when I first saw you,” I said, pushing open the door to the 7-Eleven. “Well you gave me a weird look, though,” Taylor said with a laugh as he followed me in. “That was because I didn’t expect you to be behind me,” I said, heading to the cooler to grab myself something to drink. Taylor followed me. When I grabbed my soda, I turned around to see Taylor standing behind me, his hands still in his pockets. “Can I help you with something?” I asked. “Oh, um… I just wanted to grab a Snapple,” he said, pulling open the cooler next to the one I was standing in front of. As we walked up to the register, Taylor turned to me. “You’re going to the concert later?” he asked, putting down the Snapple on the counter. “Yeah, I was waiting in line when I almost passed out – they’re not letting us in yet.” “Oh. Where are your seats, I’ll give you a wave or something.” I cringed when I remembered my nosebleed seats. “I sincerely doubt that you’ll even see me and my friends – our seats are on the floor, row BB.” Taylor wrinkled his nose while I paid for my soda. “Yuck. Who are you going with?” “My friends Sherin and Megan.” Taylor shook his head while he paid for the Snapple. He was silent for a few moments while we walked outside, but then turned to me. “You want a ride back to the Kirby Center? I promise I’m a good driver, I won’t kill you.” He motioned toward the rental car he had driven there. “Umm, sure, I guess,” I said, wondering just why he was asking me that in the first place. I mean, how would he know that I wasn’t a psycho or something? Of course I wasn’t, and by that time, I was getting pretty comfortable talking to Taylor. I was amazed at how friendly he was to a complete stranger, giving her a ride somewhere. Wait until they hear this – they’re never gonna believe me. Taylor pulled into traffic and promptly stopped at a red light. The 7-Eleven was no more than a few blocks from the Kirby, and we would be back in a matter of minutes. Taylor turned to me at the light. “Do you and your friends wanna come backstage and watch the show from there? I mean, since you guys have such crappy seats and all.” I blinked. They would believe me, after all. “Are you sure?” I asked, not wanting to sound too much like a teeny while he was being so nice to me. “Sure I’m sure,” he said, turning back to the light, which was turning green. “Just go and grab your friends from the line, I’ll wait by the back entrance. I’ll just talk to a few fans or something while I’m there. That’s where I have to park this anyway,” he said, turning a corner. He took the corner a little too tight for my taste and I grabbed onto the side of the seat. “Okay,” I said, still a bit wary of his intentions. But of course, I was in a car with the guy and he could’ve taken me anywhere he wanted to had his way with me…not that I would’ve objected in the least…but still. He parked in a parking lot near the back entrance to the Kirby. I walked around the building, Taylor assuring me that he would be there as I walked away. I ran up to my friends, who were, thankfully, still outside and pulled them aside. “We’re gonna meet Hanson,” I said right before walking away. I knew this would get their attention. Within seconds, I was bombarded with questions from both of them as they followed me to the back of the building. Sure enough, Taylor was standing in the doorway with a bodyguard, talking to a few girls that had the brains to wait in the back of the building for Hanson to arrive. Taylor saw me coming and waved me over. He said something to his bodyguard, who nodded and asked the girls to step back as we walked through to the door. Taylor stepped aside as we walked in, said goodbye to the girls, who were complaining that we got to go backstage and they didn’t, and walked in the building with us, his bodyguard walking toward a box and rummaging around in it. “Taylor, this is Sherin and Megan,” I said, pointing to my friends. “Guys, I believe you know who Taylor is.” They were silent as they shook Taylor’s hand. He looked to me in confusion. “All I said was, ‘we’re gonna meet Hanson,’ and they’re in a small state of shock right now. They should open up soon enough.” “Where’s Zac?” Megan blurted out, apparently unable to help herself. Sherin couldn’t stay silent for very much longer either. “And Isaac.” Taylor laughed. “They’re in the dressing room with Zoey and Mackie. I take it you guys wanna meet them.” “YEAH!” At that point, Taylor’s bodyguard came back, handing each of us a laminated pass so we could get around backstage. I stuck mine around my neck while Taylor pointed down the hallway, toward where the dressing rooms were. My friends began walking, Taylor and I following. “I thought you said they were normal,” he whispered in my ear. I snickered. “I said I was normal. I said nothing about them.” He made a face while we walked in the open dressing room door. “Hey Ike, Zac, I made friends,” Taylor announced to his brothers, who were sitting on the couch and floor, playing with their little siblings. Zoey was coloring with Zac and Mackie was reading a book, sitting near Isaac on the couch. “Amazing,” Isaac remarked. “And they’re actually cute girls our age. Nice to meet you ladies,” he said, standing up. Sherin just about fell over. Zac looked up from coloring and gave us a smile. “Cute’s right, the name is Zac,” he said, standing up. Megan nearly had an aneurysm. ~*~*~ “Take me to a place, where I can always see your face, I really lost my way this time… Tell me what it means, I’m bursting at the scenes, you’re in my thoughts, my dreams, yeah, I….” The three of us stood on the side of the stage, next to Taylor’s parents and sisters and brother. Sherin was dancing with Mackie, Megan was making faces at Zoey and I had been chatting with Jessi. She kept trying to convince me that Taylor had “the hots” for me, but I wouldn’t hear it. Well, I did hear it, but I just wanted to keep hearing it, LoL. The Hanson family was going to be in town for a few days, and the next day, Taylor and I were going to the movies to see Joyride with Isaac and Sherin and Zac and Megan - sort of a triple date. After the movie, the six of us were heading over to Tinks, to hear a band play that Hanson was thinking of using as an opening band for the tour. And to think, I owe this all to my burning desire for a Wild Cherry Pepsi. |
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