I was on my way to Louisville, Kentucky to see a concert. Bonnie “Prince” Billy was playing in an old church, an exclusive show. I had been a fan for a long time, and had never seen him live, so I was pretty excited. At this time I had been going to concerts frequently. A bunch of friends and I would pile into the car and head out to the nearest city that would be hosting live music. When at these shows I noticed that most people had similar looks, the indie or hipster look is most common. While walking down the streets of Nashville or Memphis, it is easy to identity the other people on their way to the show. For the many concerts I had attended this was true, I liked the fact that I could tell by looking at a person that they probably listen to similar music as I did, and therefore we would have something in common, but on this particular night I would be proven wrong.
Upon arriving at the church my friend Tim let me know that he in fact did not have tickets, he was hoping to buy them when we arrived, but we had no such luck. So Tim went to plan B. He did what he usually does at concerts, and struck up a conversation with the person next to him. This person too had the same plan, and was on the lookout for tickets for sale. While sitting on the curb, trying to figure out how we were going to get into the show I spotted a man. He was sitting with another man, a six pack of beer between them. They both looked out of place. They were dressed in all black. Their shorts were almost down to their ankles and their shirts were three sizes too big. They had a thug look to them. Surely they were not here to see Bonnie “Prince” Billy. I assumed they were scalpers. I pointed the two guys out to Tim suggesting that he ask if they had tickets, but Tim refused. They didn’t look very approachable. Eventually we talked to some people who told us how to get in. It was dishonest, but we didn’t drive five hours to sit on the curb in Louisville and not see Bonnie “Prince” Billy.
The room that the show was held in was small and crowded. The stage was no more than two feet off the ground, the floor was slanted and there were maybe two lights on. But it was perfect. Bonnie “Prince” Billy is a bit eccentric, not the usual musician, so this was the perfect venue for him to play at. As we crowded into the room, we tried to push our way to the front. There weren’t any amps, so it would be difficult to hear his guitar and his singing if we were too far back. As we were making our way up to the stage, I spotted the man that I had seen outside. He was right up against the stage. I wondered why he was here. Did he know who was playing? Now I was curious. I kept looking over at him, wondering about him. The show began, and my attention was turned toward the show. After the first song, I looked to see if the guy was still there, and he was. So I continued to watch him. As the second song started, I noticed that this guy new all the words. He was singing along! He knew the words better than I did! I nudged Tim and pointed at the guy; he just chuckled and said, “Go figure.” He wasn’t as astonished as I was.
I guess I was shocked because I always assumed that people that dressed a certain way liked certain music. Usually this is true, but I was definitely proven wrong that night. I judged this man based on how he was dressed. Because he was dressed so differently than me, I assumed that he must not listen to the same music as I do, we must not have anything in common. That is one day that I think I will never forget because it has taught me not to judge someone so quickly. I have learned that a person’s outer appearance says little to nothing about who that person really is.