Sting Sting

Unexpectedly and surprisingly, I found myself on a Sting concert, wearing someone else's fancy summer dress and new-bought shoes…
Several days before, my friend called and told me that she knew people who could help us get in for free.
Next, I spent all Saturday cleaning my house for a guest that was supposed to arrive on Monday (and never did), woke up after 3 hours of sleep at 6 A.M. on Sunday and took the first marshrutka to Batumi.
Of course we ate and ate in the “Privet iz Batuma”…
And then I spent two hours swimming.
When I came back to out apartment, I found my friend dressed in an evening gown she bought in NY. I thought that since this was a Batumi concert and since we had to stand, and since it was Sting and not symphonic orchestra, I could get away with nice shirt and jeans. To my horror, my friend informed me that D & G index would be pretty high that evening.
She gave me her summer dress, but I had no shoes. I had flip flops and sandals that looked like they came straight from Ancient Rome. So, we raided local Bata and bought some nice-enough shoes.
We were picked up by one of those obnoxious security guard enormous jeeps that annoy the hell out of mere mortals by blocking their way, violating all the rules and acting like Lords of Road. I cannot reveal any more information...
Finally, we found ourselves among crème de la crème of Georgian society. And let me tell you that crème is very sour. They clapped politely and just sat there, afraid to ruin their posture. Not only that, but they looked at us with judgment, when we yelled and screamed and jumped and clapped and sang along "Desert Rose".
The second part of the concert, we were pressed against each other by the security, cause our president decided to walk down to the people and listen to Sting amongst them (us). Thus, the second part was not as pleasant, as I was squeezed by two mammoth bodyguards. I continued screaming and one poor bodyguard was forced to remove his earpiece and put it in the opposite ear, away from me. After all, these guys were working.
Several celebrities walked by in their ruffled dresses, perfect tan and un-smiley faces…
People kept staring at Misha instead of the stage…
All I wanted was free water that was included with 400 Lari tickets and lay all over the place and under the seats, on the other side of the fence, where the elite sat-- according to a Georgian saying--with quills up their asses. I guess drinking water was against make-up rules.
Finally, Sting sang “My Funny Valentine” and it was one of the best performances I have seen in my life!
After the concert, we took some pretty pictures, ate mandatory Acharuli Khachapuri and I went through another night with 3 hours of sleep. But it was so worth it!
P.S. who the hell designed that ticket? Botti has color of Zombie and there is what looks like Sting's passport photo...