Stuck in traffic outside a Coldplay concert in Brisbane
The bus got snarled in the traffic outside the Suncorp Stadium in Paddington.
All of a sudden, a great feeling of despair overcame me. Line upon line of sun-basted young people wound their ways round the forecourt of the Stadium, for no apparent reason other than the fact as they were there they might as well be doing something. People leaned out of car windows. People were smiling. A big neon sign flashed by the side of the road NO STOPPING but it didn’t feel like these shiny happy (sweaty) people would care about such strictures. A couple of blocks up, police cars were hanging loose. As the traffic intensified, so did the feeling of hopelessness. I quickly flicked between songs on my iPod – The Shangri-La’s killer album ’65, Dexys’ ‘Incapable Of Love’, even The Thin Kids – but nothing seemed to rid me of it.
It was like I was watching my Coldplay album review made horribly real:
I took to counting my blessings. I couldn’t think of any. The way this traffic was solidifying around the bus, it felt like we would be dragged inexorably into the vortex of despair that was the side road leading onto the parking spaces for the Suncorp Stadium and we would be forced at Bible-point by smiling Mormons to buy scalped tickets for Coldplay at a couple of hundred bucks apiece. I prayed aloud to Bangs.
A couple of seconds later, the traffic lights moved on and we continued on our journey.
The whole affair had taken up 120 seconds. The longest two minutes of my life.