Don't talk to me about U2 concerts....

EACH day that passes brings us closer and closer to the U2 concerts scheduled to take place as part of the summer music fest in Dublin.



I have to say my last experience of U2 has completely left me traumatised, so much so, that I almost stick two fingers in my ears whilst loudly singing ‘la la la la la la la la la’.



'la la la la la la la la la'

I have been lucky and seen them in concert on a number of occasions but the whole experience of living in Dublin when they are playing kinda translates to the haves and have-nots of tickets. So when you are in the have-not category – you feel that you are missing out on a very significant concert, which is sure to go down in the musical archives of time.

So back to why I can’t even think about a U2 concert without breaking out in hives follows my experience a couple of years back.

U2 announced they were to play Slane, which is a big music festival day at Slane Castle held most years, however the tickets sold out in a flash.


Obviously someone who managed to keep a hold of their ticket

Then sometime later, it was announced that some tickets were available on the internet so I get on, managed to overcome the incredibly busy internet, managed to order four tickets (knowing I could easily rustle up three other interested bodies) and sat back feeling smug, lucky and delighted with myself.

Some days later the tickets arrived in a row of six, four were tickets, one was my address and the other was my invoice. Fantastic, and up they went on my shelf beside my passport and other things that I need to keep an eye on.

Every now and again, I would take them down, and try to give my friend her two for herself and her partner but she kept going ‘no, leave them and I will get them again’. Now that started to piss me off, I wanted rid of them, I only wanted to be responsible for my own. But she insisted and this went on for weeks.

Until one day, she was in my flat showing me a book she was making for someone which had lots of draft pages, etc, etc. In other words an armful of stuff to be thrown out. Before she left, I put my foot down, took the tickets from the shelf where I was keeping them, ripped off two tickets and insisted she take them.

So the day loomed closer and closer, until it finally arrived. Off we went, with our picnics, some drinks and full of ‘wayyyy haaaayyyy’. Until we arrived near Slane that is….

My friend said: “Where’s those tickets?”
Me: “Aye yer funny – I only have me own!”
My friend: “No seriously, where’s the tickets?”
Me: “AYE yer funny, I have mine!”… This went on for a bit… a bit too long.

I wont bore you anymore with that, just to say again that this went on for a while, with each of us thinking the other was pulling the other’s leg.

Eventually I went ‘I DON’T have yours, I have mine’. The long and the short was, she didn’t have her two. All of a sudden, people were quizzing me as to where the tickets were and I began to doubt myself and what I KNEW happened. Anyway we drove all the way back to Dublin, while she searched her flat and I searched mine (we live beside each other).

All of a sudden, everyone was up in my flat helping me, including the friend ticketlosing offender. This started to really piss me off BIGTIME. Everyone had abandoned looking in the tickerlosers flat and were helping me, this could only mean that the blame was falling on me. This is despite me constantly saying, ‘I kept them here, here is the invoice and they are not here, as I said they wouldn’t be, because I handed them to (friend) at my flat door, I can see myself doing it now’. Besides which, while I had the tickets I kept them in the one long chain to keep them safe, and did not rip them off until I insisted my friend take hers. Why would I rip off two valuable tickets doing this and separate them.

Anyway bear in mind, there were still two tickets and because I was somehow entangled with the ticketloser I decided to be big and insist the other two go. However the ticketloser threw a mini wobblie because one of the others was her partner and told him if he was to go he could feck off.

I couldn’t believe this and insisted they went. In the end they drove about for an hour before coming back with two intact U2 tickets for Slane.

The end of the tale, is that I didn’t lose the tickets, and I no longer even have the unused tickets which would be worth money.

To this day, we still do not really talk about it other than to say that we are both still traumatised. So while she thinks it was me that lost the tickets, it was not. IN fact they all think it was me. I have often wondered if the others ever turned up and she could not face me to tell me so. While it might sound ridiculous, it was such a horrible day, where the blame completely wrongly fell on me, I do hope that they turned up in her flat and she felt guilt like never before as well as having the knowledge that I was telling the truth the whole time and no one, no one, would listen to me, they only listened to her – the ticketloser.

The moral of the story is, stick to your guns when you know something to be true, despite the bullying? (for want of a better word) and other people’s opinions to the contrary.

So while this year’s concert takes place, I will be hiding. (I going to hide now cos I’m depressed again after telling that tale of woe).