Spice World

If you wannabe my lover, you have to put up with my shit.

My mental health took a great hit when Kylie Minogue announced her Golden Tour. The album was bad and I was definitely not looking forward to seeing her perform live a bunch of songs I didn’t like, but I would have liked to at least have the option to pass on it. Since she doesn’t come anywhere near America (the continent), I could only follow her tour on Instagram; the FOMO I experienced was beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

So I took a stand.

I promised everyone who would listen myself I would not let this happen again. I make enough money to blow it on an international trip to see my favorite artists and still afford my coke addiction rent. This sounds crazy, but after getting front row tickets for The Cranberries just to have Dolores cancel it and then drown in a bathtub, I thought, “What if this my last chance to see [insert artist name]?”

As if God was testing my commitment, the Spice Girls announced their reunion tour, and I sure as hell was not going to let Him down. I woke my boyfriend up at 4 AM to buy these tickets as soon as they were available. After a few terrifying minutes, I was in.

Now I had to figure out the small details, such as:

  • Get my manager to approve my vacations
  • Figure out how to get my ass to Manchester
  • Ensure I (or them) would not die in the 9 months leading up to the concert

May arrived sooner than expected and the rumors came with it. First, Scary Spice confessed she had a big lesbian crush hooked up with Ginger and the international media lost it, immediately claiming that the tour was off. Then news came out about Scary being hospitalized because of her eye. I was shitting my pants.

I jumped on that plane to the UK and counted down the days anxiously, until June the 1st finally arrived.

The train from London to Manchester was packed with skinny blonde women in their mid 40’s. All super bougie by the look of their bags, huge diamond rings, and the Veuve Clicquots they were downing like water. Before I could wonder what they were all doing there, one of them took out a small speaker and was all like, “OK, girls, let’s practice!”, cue to Spice Up Your Life blasting off the speaker and every single woman (and me) there sang along to it.

This ride was taking me to Heaven. My boyfriend was already in Hell.

We arrived in Manchester and the city itself was even more of a trip than the train. Women, men, children, everyone everywhere was wearing Spice Girls t-shirts or fully dressed up as one of them – Ginger and Scary were the most popular choices. This was it, this was Spice World, and it was conveniently located in the UK. I could not believe my eyes!

The tram to the arena was full of people (95% women, 5% gays) drinking and singing every one of their songs. The location was plagued with wannabe Spice Girls; each and every one of them put so much effort into their costumes that the real Spice Girls would have looked like amateurs next to them.

I had to hit the toilets before the concert and had the pleasure of peeing next to 3 Ginger, 2 Baby, and 5 Scary Spice “girls”. How many people can say that?

Side note: The Scary Spice next to me had a gigantic dick, so, yeah, Scary was a very fitting choice for him.

When I came out, all the women decided to queue outside the men’s bathroom because the line for the women’s bathroom was longer than the whole of January felt. A drunk bitch strong and independent woman couldn’t hold it in anymore and jumped behind a dumpster to pee while screaming, “Girl Power!”

A moment of silence for the patriarchy, which was single-handedly defeated by this brave and fearless woman.

The concert was beyond all my expectations. It was so electrifying to sing along my childhood idols and 50,000 hardcore fans for 2 full hours. Even though I’m far from being the 9 year old boy I was once,I felt like he had come out, just for one night, to fangirl like there was no tomorrow. The excitement and nostalgia of every person there was palpable as we sang Sporty Spice’s part of Say You’ll Be There. This was it, I had made it to Heaven and it was fucking amazing.

Perhaps the Spice World 2019 Tour did not empower a new generation of women, but it was a great reminder for those of us who lived through the 90’s of how great, cheesy, and simple those days were.

It was so worth it, even if my credit card disagrees.

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