He Brought Sexy Back

I am writing this blog post at 6:14 am as I sit in an airport terminal for my flight that has been delayed 2 hours and after a mini panic attack at check-in.

I lied. I fell asleep for an hour at the airport. Made a friend, kinda. Woke up, left the friend. Went to get coffee and a bagel, and came back and the plane was there! So now I am on the plane, blasting Justin Timberlake, having flashbacks of last night, but more importantly blocking out the snoring man next to me. I really love flying, can't you tell? 

Anyways, the point of this post is to gawk, admire, and respect the beauty and perfection that is the man, the myth, the legend: Justin Timberlake.

I bought tickets to see Justin Timberlake back in January. That was SO long ago. And there was a crazy mishap with the tickets and Bank of America thought that someone had stolen my credit card therefore blocking me from buying the tickets in which the page refreshed and I lost the most perfect, reasonably priced tickets ever. (The person behind me keeps kicking my seat. Today is the worst.) Since I got the tickets, what seems like ages ago, it was a miracle that the day had finally come. The day in which I was supposed to pack during the day, but ended up going to brunch and playing with my kitty, and then packing last minute and spending way too much time getting ready for the concert so that I would have to come home and pack and not sleep. Do it for JT. We got to LA Live after a car ride of blasting Justin Timberlake and playing the "what songs is he going to sing?" and the "I wonder if he is going to have any guest performers or an opening act" guessing game. Spoiler alert: no one opens for JT and he doesn't need a guest appearance to make the show memorable. (Oh! Drink service time! The snoring guy woke up.. Still blasting JT, whatever) 

So we get to LA Live, got handed free coke, and we go to the restaurant we had reservations at. The lady looked at us like we were crazy and then asked if we had made the reservations online. Isn't that how everyone makes reservations nowadays? I didn't say that of course, I didn't want her to spit in my food or anything... But I told her yes and searched for the email reservations (33 more minutes of flight time according to the pilot, who sounds very attractive). I found the reservation and had it ready to show her as she explained to us that their server crashed and no online reservations went through and the best she could do was have us be next on the list. I mean, that is a pretty good deal, so we said okay and our table was ready within a few minutes. We ate upstairs and it was a pretty fun restaurant. My food came last, like way after everyone else's but maybe thats because I ordered tacos and the restaurant wanted to torture me. Who knows. After dinner we headed over to Staples, which is right across the street, and waited in the super crazy long lines to get in. While in line, the ladies in front of me asked me to take a picture of them and then they would take one of us. Cool, sounds good. So i go to take a picture of these two, thirty-something women, and I look at their tickets, that they were flashing in the picture to read the row and seat  numbers: Row 1, Seat 4/5. Well yeah, if I had floor front row seats I would be flashing those too, but I wanted to trade taking their picture for their tickets. I kept my cool though. And they went on their merry way. In line, we got free cherry red vine candy things, thanks AMP radio, and Emma and I went to go check out the shirts while Erika and Christina held our places in line. We got through security and saw bunches of people congregated in front of iPads. "Win VIP tickets for tonights show!" DONE. We all entered our information and thought since we were poor college students in the nose bleed seats we would be chosen, but we weren't. So we made the trek up to the top of Staples center and climbed a ton of stairs, and finally made it to our seats, one row in front of the very back row. 

But we were right on the side of the stage, and JT didn't look like that much of an ant. Like we could see his dance moves from up there, and that made me happy. We didn't get to our seats until about 8:20 and on the ticket it had said start time 8:00. No one opened, well, unless you count the DJ but I don't, and JT came on a little after 9:00. (The man in front of me keeps banging his back against the seat and my water is spilling everywhere. What. The. Eff. And the stewardess just came by for trash and walked right past me. OKAY, PEOPLE.) Justin played until about 10:00 or so and took a 10 minute break. I mean the guy needed some type of break after singing and dancing for an hour, goodness. He played until 11:45 and it was a huge party. He played classics like What Goes Around, SexyBack, Señorita (my fave), songs from 20/20, and Human Nature by Michael Jackson for Robin Williams. Cue tears. The stage moved across Staples and was one of the coolest concert layouts I have seen. He also made us sing happy birthday to Katie from Victorville and yelled at her for being sober. This man dropped f bombs like it was nobody's business. And if I had a dollar for every time he said "turn up" or "shake your ass, LA" my ticket would be paid for. Oh, random, someone was smoking weed during the show. Like is that what people do in the nose bleed section?! And the guy who was smoking brought his girlfriend and she had a little bit too much to drink and was asleep for more than half the show. And then there were the drunk dancers, and overly excited moms who stood up and danced for every.single.song. Power to ya.

It was an amazing concert and I can't imagine having as much fun as I did without my friends. (Closer seats would have been nice, but I'm not going to complain.)

Oh! We're starting our decent. SF, here I come.