And I thought last week was wild.
Getting a name for myself in the office as the ‘crazy British one', I ventured out again this morning, all in the name of free live music. Knowing what to expect this time, I gave myself an extra 15 minutes in bed, chugged two coffees, and made my way to the correct entrance (lesson learned!). Thinking of myself as quite the seasoned concert-goer now, I figured I'd be fine. I was definitely wrong.
I couldn't have looked more out of place as I joined the back of an already mile-long queue outside Central Park at 5:40am. Rocking up in my cutesy romper and feather headband, I looked supremely British. Everyone else was full of booty and shimmy, laden with Beyonce posters and t-shirts, ready to show her what she's worth.
In front of thousands, Beyonce stated how thankful she is to be an icon to young people, keeping them “focused” and “off the streets”. Yes, these kids definitely had focus. And that focus was Beyonce. (I admit, I'm not a die-hard fan. Sure, I know the chorus to "Single Ladies" and I'll never pass the opportunity to whip out some moves to "Crazy in Love," but that's about it.)
But my peers, goodness! They knew the dances, they knew the lyrics, they knew her life and her history. My toes were trampled, my ribs were elbowed, Beyonce was going to see them be it life or death. These fans are fans. The overly energetic man in front of me had apparently traveled from the Caribbean, and crowds of people had camped out since 10pm last night. They were wise to do so. I thought Florence was a crowd-pleaser, but I'd clearly never seen Beyonce. Showing clear admiration to the crowd and wishing everyone a good July 4th Beyonce certainly knows how to say "Good Morning, America."