Story time.
I was in college in the very early '80s. There was a very pretty redhead in one of my classes I had been wanting to ask out on a date. One day as I walked into the classroom, I caught part of her conversation with another girl: "... heard about the concert last night, and I can't wait. Oh, it is going to be so AWESOME!"
The Van Halen concert -- of course!! They had just announced it last night, no way had anyone asked her to it yet, and she was clearly excited about it. I joined the conversation in progress:
Me: Yeah, it's going to be amazing! Hey, would you like to go to it together?
Her: Ooh, that'd be great! It is just going to be such a fantastic concert -- what do you think about waiting in line overnight to get good tickets?
Me: Sure, sounds great!
Several minutes passed before I began to realize she wasn't talking about the Van Halen concert at all, but the Barry Manilow concert.

Still, she
was really pretty... so what the heck, how bad could it be.
A couple of days later, tickets went on sale. We stayed up all night at the Frank Erwin Special Events Center, got our tickets -- I didn't tell her I was relieved that the floor had sold out before we got to the front of the line.
Fast forward to a week before the concert. She and I have gone out a few times, had some fun. Yeah, she was worth sitting through Barry Manilow for, I thought. The phone rings. "Joe, guess what? I don't know if I've told you this, but I'm the president of the local Barry Manilow fan club. The concert promoters just called me, and they're going to trade our tickets to FRONT ROW CENTER!!"
So, yes. It's true. I'm not proud of it. But I, Joe Baker, sat front row center through a Barry Manilow concert.
By mutual agreement, it was our last date!

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Joe Baker, who still breaks out in a cold sweat at the sound of "Copa Cabana".