Fast forward to the day of the show - I was just heading out to the campus grounds when my aunt tells me that I have to also take my little cousin along, since the tyke was inconsolable about having missed Sonu Nigam the day before, and I reassured him that however cool Snoru may be, these guys were cooler.

Now the campus is a big place, so it took us a while to find where exactly the gig was going to be held. We asked some kids in black t-shirts for directions at a junction, and they pointed right, but after a few kilometres, all I had seen was a sign saying "Deer Crossing!" and a panther in the bushes (waiting for the deer to cross, I suppose). No Swedes yet, alas. We backtracked and roundly cussed the asshole kids at the junction before finally arriving at the Elephant Circle.

Arriving at the open-air auditorium, it was just our luck to find Opeth starting their soundcheck. After parking ass and chilling out for a few minutes, my cousin wanted to know when 'that man' was going to stop clearing his throat and start singing. I slapped him on the head and told him to shut up and listen. That started him sniffling, which earned me some dirty looks from a couple of girls nearby, and not the kind of dirty looks I like, either. Then this guy next to me leans over, shouting to be heard over the din:

"Hey! What song is this?"
"Heir Apparent!"
"Hire a parent?! What the hell is that about?!"
"Dunno. In vitro fertilisation?"

After a lengthy soundcheck, the band packed up and left stage and we got word that they'd be starting a meet-n-greet session, which was too good to pass up. Unfortunately, the security guard wouldn't let me wearing with my 5-kilo spiked wristband and I'd be damned if I was going to take off my hedgehog for the fuzz! So I taught my dumbass cousin how to throw the horns, told him to get in line and get my CD signed and then get a picture taken with them so I could photoshop my face in later.

However, this wasn't what I'd come here for - I'd come to take advantage of drunk chicks. But with security turning away all patrons with alcohol on the breath (as well as a few unfortunate victims of halitosis), there didn't seem to be any easily persuadable prospects around. I'd have to settle for watching Swedes putting on a show.

A heavy-ass song started playing and the crowd went crazy. I assumed they had started, but because I'm sort of short, I couldn't really see and confirm it for myself. My midget cousin only comes up to my chest, and he was jumping up and down, trying to get a peek as well. Then he tells me that sitting on someone else's shoulder was the only way to see the action. I thought that was a pretty idea in theory, but the bugger collapsed under my weight in a few seconds.

Then I got a call from a friend who sounded pretty tanked up. "Dude! I'm in the VIP area! I got an extra pass for one more person. Come on over!" I stared at the phone and then looked over at the little cousin, faced with a difficult decision - namely, what kind of lie do I tell the guy to get out of this place? "I'm just going to get some popcorn!" was what I settled on, as I hotfooted out of there. On my way out, I met this lost-looking chap loafing around, so I halted my sprint to ask him what the hell he was doing outside. He said some nonsense about wanting to find out what the fascination about Opeth was, but being unsatisfied by the answers he had seen so far, so I kicked his ass for being a ponce and then resumed my run to the gate.