Concert

Written by: Geoffery McHugh

We went to the concert, my cousin and
I

While we tried to find parking, a man in a yellow beetle hit an Acura, thought that no one was 
looking and quickly looked for another space. My cousin didn't notice, but I saw his
face.

Interlude 21min

Later on, when we were actually in the auditorium but before the concert, I saw the beetle 
driver and his girlfriend four rows closer to the stage than my cousin and I, and dead-center 
to boot. 

An evil idea bit me in the tit.

I got up and signaled my cousin to follow me, and when he asked what I was up to I just 
chuckled and told him to act tough and follow my lead.
We walked towards beetle-man.

When at last we reached the hit-and runner, I tapped him on the 
shoulder.
He turned around, eyes shining like a doe's within the halogens.
And who could blame him? 
he was looking at me and my cousin, two six-foot tall men with broad shoulders and angry 
looks.

"Hey! You're that idiot who just hit my Acura in the parking lot and drove off!" I barked out 
as loud as I
could.

He turned dead white, the poor guy. 
I barely succeeded in not bursting into 
laughter.

"Well now you've dunnit buddy-boy, you done gone too far and you're gonna die!" I emoted 
in trailer-court-elizebethan as I lunged at him. 

He was wiry thin though, and a fast little thing. 
Before I could blink he was running up the aisle towards the doors so fast he didn't even see 
that my lunge was fake.

his girlfriend trailed him only by seconds.

I sat down in my new third row, center stage seat and laughed, motioning for my cousin to 
join me.

He did, but shook his head dissapprovingly at me as he did.

"What in the sam-hill was that all about, cuz? Do I have to remind you that you don't own an 
Acura?" He asked heatedly.

"No. I know I don't own an Acura. But for a while at least, 
A. I own these seats 

B.That poor kid we scared off will never, ever hit-and-run anyone again. 

And 
C. I proved a very important point to you."

"What exactly is that, oh great and wise Geofferini, king of the mouth-breathers?" he 
questioned sardonically.

"I proved that you're a dillhole." I socked him on the shoulder.
Hard. 
"But I love you anyway, cuz."