AT THE TACOMA DOME
Upon entering the Tacoma Dome, I was practically blown back out the door by uproarious screaming, an overabundance of glowsticks, and giant pictures of Britney Spears' face.
Yeah, I went to the Britney Spears concert.
Traffic made me miss the opener, Nikka Costa, who I heard was great--so when I finally got there, the crowd was already spastic and energized.
I waded through masses of six-, seven-, and eight-year-old girls (and 16-, 17-, and 18-year-old boys) to find my floor seat. But something wasn't right--this wasn't my comfort zone. I haven't been to this big of an arena show since New Kids on the Block in fifth grade, and this time I forgot my sparkly one-shoulder tank top, shimmery green eyeshadow, and strappy platform sandals.
Regardless, there I was--just one of the 23,000 people nestled in the "cozy" Dome. And within that crowd of 23,000 people are 23,000 stories. If you're a regular reader of Underage, you know I generally try to find one of the interesting stories, but tonight it was different. I was much too overwhelmed to do anything but gawk--and then gawk some more.
The Dome went dark. Britney erupted onstage from below while hanging from a big spinning metallic disc. When she opened with "Crazy," flames shot up, fireworks went off, and the crowd went insane--running every which way from their assigned seats to get a better view.
"Welcome to the Dream Within a Dream Tour," Brit said, "where anything--I mean anything--can happen."
And anything did happen. This certainly wasn't Damien Jurado sitting on a stool with an acoustic guitar. I don't even know where to start: Glittery bra tops, dry humping, lip syncing, and soft porn are all to be expected from a Britney Spears concert, and all were present and accounted for. But after a few costume changes, a cute, virginal Britney would rear her demure head as she admitted she's "not a girl, and not yet a woman," while looking less sex kitten and more girl-next-door (all the while looking very orange due to "fake and bake" syndrome).
Innocent ballad, sexy radio hit, ballad, radio hit... and so it went. I can't deny it--it was an amazing show, biases be damned. But I promise next week I'll be back to normal. MEGAN SELING
