I enter the audience of the Hollywood Bowl at the top corner. Almost all of the seats are filled, but the audience is perfectly silent. There are a few of us hurrying towards our seats. It is clear that everyone else is waiting for us, with little patience left. Near what I suppose to be my seat, Peter Gabriel is waiting with quiet impatience. Once I am seated, he asks that everyone turn to the fourth sheet of the front pocket of the little folders that everyone has been issued. I do not have mine, as I am only there through a fluke. The chants some nonsense syllables. I remember and relive and re enact my getting to the bowl.
I am a customs or airport bureaucrat in an Eastern Block country. While herding passengers through a maze, I steal the tickets of one of the people leaving the country. I step over the crowd control fencing and transform myself into a departing passenger. Amongst the document that I steal is the ticket into the concert.
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