The concert is open seating. The doors will open at 7:45.
Just before 7:45 I walked into halls surrounding the auditorium. If it was open seating, I knew the good seats would go fast, and I'm tired of neck straining seats. Tired of the speaker far to my left, tired of the singer too far away to see her lips. Jumbotrons don't offer the same experience. I would do everything in my power tonight to get a good seat.
Sure enough there was a long line of people waiting at the auditorium doors, but the doors were still locked. I passed women who kept checking to see if the doors were yet unlocked. I kept walking around the building to avoid this line, and then another. Keep going, I thought to myself. There has to be another door without such a line.
Soon enough, I found an open door and entered, and to my amazement, all of the front and center good seats were already filled. I thought of the people waiting behind the locked doors, and the others: the people who'd found a way in, who'd found their way to a good seat.
I thought about all the times I'd waited behind a locked door when I perceived there was no other way in. I thought about the present locked doors I wait behind and the ignorance I accept, when in reality there are doors unlocked. I just have to keep walking until I find them. I wondered most of all, how many doors I lock myself.