I'm typing this from the 10th floor of the Parco building in Downtown Hiroshima off, um, borrowed Wifi. My friend and I are 3rd and 4th in the ticket line for the Mongol 800 (mon pachi) concert at Club Quattro here set to start in an hour and a half. He's making a quick food run while I save our place - he met me at a starbucks next door and brought a change of clothes from work to go hit up the line.
I may be missing the by all reports awesome third leg, but I'm still pushing my ticket karma for all it is worth! It feels so... right... to be stuck in a ticket line again, with all of the nervous energy and hopefully jubiliant resolution it comes with.
