Right, by popular demand and also because I CAN’T not mention such an evening, here is, hour by hour, minute by minute, the tale of the day I met Madonna…
9H00: I get up with sunshine in my head, tonight I’m going to Madonna’s concert with the man.
9h02: I remind myself the tickets’ price and apologise silently to my kids. It was Madonna or their saving accounts.
9h10: I have nothing to wear to meet Madonna.
11h00: After several depressing tries – I actually didn’t really slim down during holidays – I decide to go against the 17 000 persons who will be with me tonight and play it simple. Madonna will appreciate, for sure.
11h02: I find a pair of stilletos almost never worn, with them, simplicity will take on its absolute class dimension. Madonna, hold on tight, you will get a Parisian style lesson.
11h15, 12H08, 13h45, 16h56, 17h12…: I’m going to see Madonnaaaaaaaaaa !
18h16: After wearing Birkenstock for two month, my feet obviously have changed their lives. They have kind of spread and taken shape… of my Birkenstock. I put my spike heels back in the cupboard.
19h30: I’m leaving to Madonna’s concert wearing Birkenstock.
19h32: Shame on me and my entire generation.
20h00: I’m totally against the mainstream. Nobody chose simple, there are Madonnas everywhere, Like A Virgin period, In bed with Madonna period, gothic period, disco, etc. People must think I’m at the wrong concert. At best I look like a fan of Cabrel.
20h01: I have nothing against Cabrel’s fans, actually from time to time, I like Cabrel a lot. It’s just that I poorly picked my day to look like a fan of Cabrel.
20h03: The man’s has had enough of me trying to hide my shoes. He reminds me the 17 000 Madonnas didn’t come to see me.
20h04: It’s a bit painful but puts things into perspective.
20h05: We must be the only straight couple in the public, shame on us for that too.
20h12: Next to me it’s Philippe Manoeuvre. He looks at my Birkenstock, I’m pretty sure he feels sick.
20h13: I was wrong, in front of us there are Loana and Jean-Edouard, we are two straight couples.
20h14: Oh no, Loana just turned around, she has a willy and mustache
21h00: We are finally sitting on the terraces. We have good places, it was worth scarifying the children’s studies.
21h12: The entire hall is stamping, we call Louise, the Ciccone, the Madone, Madonna.
21h30: Lights are switched off. 17 000 persons holding their breath makes noise.
21h31: A huge disco ball comes down from the ceiling, music roars, 16.698 sensitive boys are on the verge of fainting.
21h32: “She’s insiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide”, screams my neighbor in a trance.
21h33: “She’s insiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide”, I repeat, half in tears, to the man.
21h34: The disco ball opens. She’s insiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide!
21h35: I don’t know which of the group enthusiasm , the 45°C, the disco ball, the small woman in a horse rider costume getting out of it, gives me the shivers, but I have to admit, at the moment, I’m crying.
21h36: I turn towards my neighbor; he cries too but is not ashamed.
21h37: It’s official, I’m gay.
To be continued…
