I abandon my assigned seat for the front row. There are empty seats everywhere. Two kids jump over the backs of the seats next to me and are beaming. One is named Colin. I tell him that he is the second Colin I have met tonight and that my brother is named Colin also. I look in Colin's direction just before the show starts and Drew Barrymore and a fancy-looking guy sit down two seats away. Drew Barrymore is looking at me. I tell myself not to be "the guy who ogles the celebrity," but when I fail to not be that guy seconds later, she is still looking. I wave to her and she mimics writing to me and smiles (I'm taking notes on the show). Then I blow it by not doing anything in response. For the rest of the show I am not really caring about Belle & Sebastian, but keep glancing back at Drew in an attempt to make eye contact. It doesn't happen. Drew Barrymore is even more attractive in person than on screen or whatever. Everyone else is watching Stuart Murdoch put makeup on his face or something. The sound is not very good in the front. All the best songs of the night are from The Boy with the Arab Strap (their best album, duh). Two songs before the end of the set—not even counting the encore—Drew and her friend disappear. Memo to Drew: No fair—you left before I could introduce myself! Contact me. If I can't make you laugh, I'll give you five dollars.
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