It had been a long day. I flew into O’Hare with my two best friends from grade school, Sachin and Ashton. It was my first time in the Windy City, and I liked what I saw. One time change and three meals (breakfast, pre-lunch, and lunch) later, we had finally started to settle down to prepare for a nice ten hour sleep before the first day of Lollapalooza, the main reason for our pilgrimage. Passing by the Apple Store, a huge cluster of tangerine Apple shirts on top of the 2nd floor caught my eye. A sign on the door, coupled with the sound of thunderous indie-rock, told me that The Black Keys, Foals, and The Kills were playing at the North Michigan Ave “venue”.
We had gotten there too late. The Black Keys had already played their set, and by the time we got there, Foals had started. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I had never heard any of the aforementioned bands, so, good or bad, I was in for a completely new surprise. Due to a combination of my lateness and my national average height of 5′9″, this would be an aural show, for the sea of scene haircuts formed a wall between Foals and my eager eyes. Or so I thought.
Putting some of those Gale instincts to work, I managed to slither my way into a corner, just 10 feet from the stage, complete with a mildly attractive and gratuitously pierced Apple employee by my side. I was in.
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