Parking Attendant Fail

As the title of this post suggests, Friday was in interesting day to say the least. I’ll set the stage for you: The day of the long-awaited “first date” Muse concert, Tom and I are both really tired from all the running around the city, but excited about leaving for Wembley for the concert. Upon arriving at the ISH parking lot, where his car had been for the past few days, paying the man, retrieving the keys, and loading in, we were ready to go at noon. Until the car wouldn’t start, and instead made a series of alarming clicking sounds, and beeped. My first panicked thought was that even though I’d assured Tom he could park his car in safety in the lot, that someone had stolen parts out of it. This wasn’t the case, but you all know how I think. The parking attendant, who was standing nearby, didn’t seem to know what to do about the situation. It sounded to my limited knowledge like a dead battery, but the attendant didn’t think so, and there was a whole lot of discussion, pointing, and banging around of things at the front end of the car that I stayed out of. After narrowing the options down to battery or starter, Tom and the attendant, along with another guy who I think drives the ISH Travel Club bus I’ll be on in a few days (I’m slightly alarmed), found some jumper cables and hooked them up. The jump didn’t work, and at this point, we got very concerned. The attendant apparently was not aware of where we could find a mechanic, and neither were the people at the front desk inside, so more banging ensued while I tried to find something on my phone. Somewhere near this point in time, a man in a suit (I think an ISH executive of some kind) walked by, asked what was going on, looked at the jumper cables, and informed the parking attendant that they were too small. He miraculously found some, hooked them up, and everything came up roses, much to mine, and I think more Tom’s, intense relief. We basically have deduced that driving in London is a terrible, terrible idea not to be repeated ever again.

After this bit of excitement, we finally got on our way to the hotel Tom had booked for himself for the night of the concert, before we knew that I was able to have guests at ISH. It was near South Ruislip, one of the furthest Tube stations out on the edge of the city (for reference). I got to be map girl, and was faced with the intense pressure of not getting us lost, which, I must say with some pride, I succeeded at. Driving was slightly insane, but manageable since I didn’t have to do it, and felt really odd since I was sitting on the left hand side without a steering wheel. Tom checked in when we arrived, we grabbed something to eat, got ready, and headed over to the Tube (100 m from the hotel!) to figure out the train situation that would get us directly to Wembley. Luckily, there was a direct overground line that we got cheap tickets for. The alternative would have been to travel all the way down the Central line to Notting Hill Gate, then the Circle line with a transfer at Edgware Road to Baker Street on the Bakerloo line, and from there up to Wembley Central. Not fun.

We arrived at the stadium, and were instantly lured by the smell of cheeseburgers coming from stands along the way. So, we shared one (I knowwww) while walking to our gate, were forced to devour it before going in, and then finally made it to our seats in time for Lily Allen to start her opening set. She was much better live than I thought she would be, and I think I’m a fan now.

When Muse came on stage, everyone basically went insane. In a place as big as Wembley Stadium, it was a big deal. They sounded amazing, and definitely lived up to what I’d heard about being better live than they sound on their records. The stage and show aspect was also really cool, with all kinds of projections and screens on the giant spaceship-looking set. Of course people in our section only started standing up to see and dance better, so we ended up standing the whole time, but that only made it easier for me to people watch. A man 3 rows down from us, probably about 60, balding, and dressed in a button down Oxford, was my favourite to watch, almost to the point of distraction. He rocked out harder than anyone I’ve ever seen, and even drummed in the air.
The finale of the concert was the best part, although it was difficult to choose one because all of it was amazing. Matt Bellamy walked out for the final set in this fantastic light suit and sunglasses that changed colour to play, and then a giant UFO balloon floated out over the crowd on the floor. At a certain point in the song, an acrobat à la Cirque du Soleil dropped down out of it and flipped around over everyone’s heads, getting close enough almost to touch them… super cool. Then a whole bunch of giant balloon eyeballs were launched into the crowd that popped into clouds of glitter. These things amuse me, and the whole show was pretty much amazing. After we were sure they weren’t going to come out for an encore again, the trek to get back to the hotel commenced. The people at Wembley are extremely good at organizing people into lines, and the massive crowd heading towards the trains were very quickly divided up by destination. After Tom and I arrived on the platform, we got on the wrong train, but luckily realized it and jumped off before it was ready to leave. After a much too short train ride back, it was time to say goodbye (for a few weeks anyway), and I just made it onto the Tube home before it closed for the night. Overall, I would say that this three day long date, filled with a variety of very different events, and culminating in the concert was a huge success, and I think Tom is pretty fantastic for taking me on it! :)