Change for the phone booth
My fi rst encounter with the MTS Centre
BEN POGGEMILLER STAFF/
The fact that I had never been in the MTS Centre was a secret I kept closely guarded. I had visions of myself being taken to the outskirts of town and left there by city offi cials, shouting, “Take part in downtown revitalization or get out!” I no longer have to fear their clutches, for at the Red Hot Chili Peppers concert, I was inside the MTS Centre for the first time.
I went with my girlfriend and her best friend. In an act that made me nostalgic for ninth grade, we got a ride there to avoid the nightmarish parking situation. We decided to go in one of the auxiliary entrances towards the back. Th ere were roughly 20 or 30 human beings, four event staff , and three security guards already in the entranceway. We had only been there for a few minutes when an importantlooking woman with an MTS Centre shirt, a badge around her neck, and an afternoon training seminar under her belt came out, ready to dish out authority with extreme prejudice. She shouted confi dently, “We need everyone to move back, so we can set up the gates!” I’ve never seen the event staff training video, but I’m sure her version was textbook-perfect. In turn, everyone literally took two steps back and continued what they were doing, so the event staff could set up what I refer to as the “riot gates.” Th ey had them set up so only one person could get through at a time. Th is is a common military tactic where if they had to open fi re, we would have been bottlenecked. It’s a good thing they got those babies set up otherwise I’m sure we would have started a guerilla insurgence.
After a few more minutes, the only female security guard present (who was by far the toughest), with what Percy Bysshe Shelley would describe as “wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command,” gave us an order. She barked (I swear this is for real), “Females on this side, males on this side. We are going into pat-down mode.” I’m not even sure how this is possible, but she seemed to make eye contact with everyone in the room at once, which is unsettling. A startling visual transformation occurs in security guards when pat-down mode is engaged. Th ey visibly adjust from cold indiff erence to pure judgment within seconds. Pat-down mode also requires that they cross their arms in front of them, to let you know that they mean business.
Once in our gender-specifi c lines, I made friends with the four 16-yearolds in front of me pretty quickly. I don’t want to get into details, but I think I unwittingly joined their cult. It turns out pat-down mode is misleading, in that the security guards don’t actually touch you, but rather look you up and down, checking to see if you have a rocket launcher sticking out of your pocket. Just like the washroom, the men’s line was clearly faster, and I ended up waiting for my female accomplices.
Before the show started, I made a trip to the washroom. It felt odd not to have the old arena troughstyle facilities, but there were enough urinals to go around. Also, it’s clear that the public cannot be trusted to control the water fl ow by themselves. Th ey need a time-delayed push button to help them.
Once in our seats, we escaped the scrutiny of the event staff — or so we thought. Th e people in front of us were under fi re for putting their feet up on the seat in front of them, and my companions were accused of trying to sneak onto the fl oor when they went to the barrier to talk to someone they knew.
Th is distrust of the public is clearly justifi ed, because most of us know that the public is, typically, very stupid. After we sat down, Wheeler from Power 97 thought it would be a good idea to go on the PA and ask, “Who’s here to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers?” Even dumber was the fact that the crowd thought it was a good idea to respond with as much noise as they could possibly generate. Between the Mars Volta and the Chili Peppers, a stagehand walked across the stage, which some geniuses mistook for an entire band, causing the crowd to erupt with excitement, only to be disappointed. Th e exact same thing happened several times actually, and once when the music playing on the PAs had stopped for a few seconds.
However, when the Chili Peppers actually did come out, the stupid people (drunk with their small amount of power) shut their mouths, the boors got louder, and everyone had a good time.
