I braved the lines at SM Tickets one afternoon and before the hordes of Lady Gaga-adoring people, declared my love for the New Kids On The Block, saying: “Miss, SVIP tickets please.”
Of course I had to get the best seats that my hard-earned money could buy. Since the New Kids on the Block and the Backstreet Boys announced their comeback, I had been wanting to see their show. Every time I was headed to the US I would check their tour dates hoping I’d find myself in the same city as the tour leg—but no luck. Until now.
I Instagrammed my triumph and when friends started to comment about how expensive the tickets were, I said, “I owe it to my 11-year-old self. She was a good girl.”
NKOTB’s 1992 Manila concert at Rizal Stadium was the first concert I ever attended. I was dressed to kill in NKOTB garb—I had on my NKOTB watch, a red shirt tucked into my NKOTB shorts, red socks and white sneakers. I thought my outfit was awesome and heck, I wasn’t the only one—all these older girls in the concert stopped to ask where I got my shorts.
Those shorts rocked—they were white and had red hearts and the boys’ faces and signatures printed all over.
Years later, it hit me—those weren’t shorts, they were boxers! Men’s boxers! I had worn men’s underwear to a concert. And I still felt no shame.
Back then my P750 ticket didn’t give me a good view of the boys. I had to stand on my seat and use my grandpa’s binoculars to see their faces clearly. That wasn’t going to happen this time.
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