AUDIENCE MIGRATION (Stage 2 to Main Stage)
The lady at the booth next to ours says, ‘That’s nothing. You shoulda seen it this morning, before the gates opened. They were all waiting in huge groups to get in and the volunteers were holding them back. They all want their space you know, to set up their blankets.”
I’ve seen that behaviour before in older people, at an estate sale which was like a fancy garage sale only at an expensive house with gated property, and outside the gate people jockeyed for position, elbowed one another and stood on tippy-toes to see past the gate.
This migration though, was calm, almost tired. They had all just come from Stage 2 where for the past hour, the band had played their last song at least four times, or so it seemed, as long drawn-out guitar solos and horn section crescendos suggested an epic denouement, and then lead singer would thank the audience with an ol’ honky-tonk accent, and thank his bandmates by name while the audience roared like it was the finale, but then the band would start again, with banjos and heavy drums.
The audience from Stage 2 that now migrated towards Main Stage were exhausted from being strung along emotionally, time and time again, and I couldn’t blame them for wanting their own blanket spot to return to and sprawl out on before the next show. The lady at the booth next to us says this is the worst time to try and get food.
