By Sue Oakes

There was an old TV show called Mystery Science Theater.  The opening scene was a view from the back of a movie theater.  The movie theater is dark against the bright movie screen, revealing silhouettes of a human and two robots sitting and looking at the screen.  We are watching them watching something else. 

Sometimes life does imitate art. 

I went to a concert with my husband.  It doesn’t happen all that often.  I tried to pretend I loved going to concerts when we first started dating to impress my concert-loving boyfriend, but I couldn’t keep up.   There were too many concerts.  I finally came clean, and he married me anyway.  But, from time to time, there is a band I enjoy or we simply want to go out together.  He will sweeten the pot with an actual seat and a promise of no opening band.  The seat is key.  And I have learned there is always an opening band, no matter what he says.

As I sat there, a bit perturbed because of the recent knowledge that there was actually an opening band, an older-than-us couple shimmied down the row in front of us.  They were excited to be there because they missed the last concert when the band was in town.  They admitted they enjoy having a seat these days, because the knees just can’t take standing on cement for hours at a time.  I was instantly connected to them.  He had a drink and she had a bottle of water.  I gathered she probably never had to pretend to want to be there.  They sat in their separate seats, but leaned into each other the whole show, patted each other’s knees, and held hands from time to time as their heads bobbed along to the rhythm.  A love of music and a love for each other brought them out that night.  I leaned over to John and said, “That is what we are going to look like one day.”   

A younger-than-us couple arrived and sat in the two empty seats next to them.  Young love and new love were complemented by their matching earplugs.  The two couples struck up a conversation about the band and I couldn’t make out much else.  But I could tell they were all looking forward to a lovely night.  Everyone except the young girlfriend. 

As the opening band played, the young couple adored each other.  Head on each other’s shoulders, touches on the leg, kissing, and talking. 

Then the headliner started.  The young boyfriend struggled to continue his affection for her as he scootched forward in his chair to take it in and snap pictures.  Since they were on the end, he was able to stand up and really devote his full attention to the show.  He remembered the girlfriend from time to time with awkward pats on the shoulder and the weird way you have to hold someone else’s head if one person is standing and one person is sitting.  Especially if the person standing isn’t really paying attention to what he is doing.  In between those moments, she kept her coat on, ready to go, and the body language said it all.  I leaned over to John and said, “I bet that is what I looked like at some of those shows back in the day.”

Between the older-than-us couple and the younger-than-us couple, there was just us watching the show.  I smiled every time I looked at the older-than-us couple enjoying their night together.  And I had to laugh every time I looked at the younger-than-us couple in their awkward evening.   

And there we were. Watching them as they were watching the concert.  I am sure there was someone behind us who was watching us, watching them, watching the concert, and wondering what I thought was so funny.  The concert was fine, the beer was good, and I was grateful to be out with someone who loves me enough to buy me a seat.  As I looked on, the thoughts in my head kept me more entertained than the concert. 

© 2025 Sue Oakes

Sue Oakes likes to write about her adventures and every little sentimental thing that pops into her head.  She loves hearing a good tale almost as much as she enjoys telling one.