The Third Wheel

"How's life treating you Norm?"

"Like it caught me sleeping with its wife."

People say alcohol brings out the truth. But tonight, I am going to examine a situation where no alcohol was involved. A night where I really wanted to meet a man, one man in particular, and have things finally, for once, go my way.

A few weeks ago, I went to a concert in DC. But this was not just any concert to me. Ryan Gosling, an actor I would like to assume everyone knows, but I guess I should say he was nominated for an Oscar for Half Nelson. But most women and maybe some men, remember him rain-stained, shirtless, and slamming Rachel McAdams into the wall in The Notebook.

Without knowing anything about him, save for the fact that for a year I religiously stalked him over the Internet, I knew that he was my one true love.

I began following his band (Dean Man’s Bones), which can be perceived as slightly underground, earlier in the year. When he announced they would be touring, that day I set my alarm for 10:30 am, and bought two tickets.

I told no one. For months, held it in during conversations. “Oh my boyfriend just bought me a diamond ring!” “This guy I’m hooking up with looks so hot naked!” “I’m pregnant… with twins!”

I could’ve told them. I could have easily rained on their parade. I was about to come face-to-face with the man that would learn to love me in mere minutes, and our happiness would shine all over US Weekly. People would ask: Why her? And he would tell them: “I just knew when I saw her standing out in the damp, freezing weather, screaming my name, over the other 14 year olds, that she was the one.”

When my female friends asked why I didn’t invite them to go my answer was simple. “You are too good-looking. I would never ask you to go.”

My male friend accompanied me, along with a girl I was trying to set him up with. I felt, that this may be all right, but I still forced her to sign a handwritten note vowing not to even look, smile, or lean in his direction, and also enforced a strict dress code.

I could be longwinded. Tell you how I had a severe anxiety attack on the drive to DC. How it felt like hours getting there. How Josh (my friend) turned to me and said, “You are having an anxiety attack about someone you are not even going to meet.”

I huffed. How dare he assume such absurdity. I had never been more determined of anything in my life.

After Josh nearly force-fed me a Xanax, we were suddenly standing outside of a synagogue. And there lies the no alcohol clause for the evening. I assumed taking tequila shooters with God would be a no-no.

We arrived late, and had to sit on the balcony. The entire place was packed. Packed with women. Hot women. The opening act was a talent show based on different performers around the DC area. I decided to just lay back in my seat, and take deep breaths, waiting to give all my energy to my Ryan.

I also had a couple obstructing my view. Just when I thought the beginning of the show was over, I stood up to gaze down at the stage, and I saw that one of the opening acts was a troupe of belly dancers.

I immediately turned to Emily and Josh, and they both sighed. “We saw it already. We didn’t want to tell you. Don’t let it discourage you.” My mind started racing, questioning what m

y purpose for even coming to this atrocity was. He was going to bang one of those belly dancers, if he hadn’t already.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he won’t want to find a cute brunette after the show,” Emily said squeezing my arm. Reality began to set in, and even I knew I would choose to go home with the belly dancer.

The show started, and as his left boot clipped the side of the stage my heart started fluttering. I realized I hadn’t been this excited in a while. I leaned my body into the pew in front of me, in an effort to keep my balance from not tumbling off the balcony, and belly flopping into the drum set.

From what I recall I gawked, stared, panted, rubbed my sweaty hands on my pants, and played musical chairs with Emily and Josh to get a less obstructed view. The couple I had mentioned had decided to stand holding each other, back to back, and it completely left me devoid of any observation. Accidentally, I said loudly, “That’s great.”

Creepy, weirdo couple: Oh, are we blocking your view?

Normally, I am not intentionally rude. I would typically stand there, and watch the concert between the middle of their two heads, and bitch about it endlessly the whole car ride home. Tonight was not that night, and I told them affirmatively, that they were in fact in my way.

By the final song, I was more in love than ever, and knew I had to get out of there. My mind was racing, he smokes, what if he wants to go outside and have a quick cigarette after this? I quickly bum rushed the emergency exit door as people stood clapping, leaving Emily and Josh far behind. I circled around the building and found nothing. I circled again, and I only found Josh and Emily. I looked at them, and I was disappointed.

I guess as I was running around the building I barely noticed that it was pouring rain, and what must have been thirty-degree temperature. None of us had coats or umbrellas, and I began to hear them discuss the option of getting food.

Before the concert, I had made them both swear that we could stay till two am if need be, and suddenly, my stalkerish plans were being rubbed out in favor of a real hook-up.

They wanted to get food together. Ryan did not want to get food with me. They were actually hitting it off, and I had a pretty good idea who Ryan was hitting it off with.

As they both stated how cold they were, and how food would be an excellent way to end the evening, I realized they were right.

I was cold and hungry.

As we passed at least twenty girls holding court outside with their umbrellas and jackets, giggling to each other, holding pens and cds, anxious and exhilarated by the idea of just a close-up glimpse of Ryan, and I realized I was them. I just forgot a coat and an umbrella.