And there he was, standing in an expensive Italian suit, clean hair glistening into the hot sun, staring down at my pasty white cheeks wondering how on earth I could deal with such pain just for a band. My shirt was torn, I hadn't showered in days, and I had sores all over my hands. He just looked deep into my eyes, dropped two tickets on my lap, and walked away. I never heard or saw from him since.

- Shain Shapiro