CW 7 #1 positive-negative beat structure

You think you know me?
This was actully supposed to be posted this-but I posted it last week. =(

Nickoli bounced up on the tips of his feet in a failed attempt to keep warm. There was only one hour left before the ticket vendor opened and he had been waiting for 27 hours. He had his tent already pitched by the time the announcement for the ticket selling was broadcasted for the second time on the radio. A morning and night of grime, sleeping in the snow, and surviving off of kit-kat bars, one bottle of water and a $1.00 size bag of Funyuns was definitely worth it just to get tickets to the concert. He ignored the stares of those who passed by and the incredulous glances shot his way by many in the line behind him.

When the vendor finally opened he rushed to the booth, money already in hand. The last time he was this excited was when he finally stretched his gauged ears to 1 7/8. Six years of slow stretching torture. Then came the time when he finished his full sleeve tattoos, both arms. Getting these tickets beat both of those times combined.

Now that he had the tickets, Nickoli placed them in his book bag and began to pack up his belongings. He didn’t hear the skidding car; he was too lost in his own giddy world. He felt a force tackle him onto the ground, followed by a loud crash.

A car now sat on what used to be his sleeping area. Smoke was coming from the hood and everyone around could smell gas.

“No! Dude my bag! Shit!” yelled Nickoli as he pushed the body off of him.

Someone was helping the driver out of the car. Nickoli failed to notice the rushing of the rescuer. He felt a hand grab hold of him, and then another and another still.

“It’s going to explode, we have to run!”, someone shouted.

 People were screaming but all Nickoli could see was his one in a chance opportunity going up in smoke. He tried his best to overpower the ones who were trying to stop him but he spent more time practicing a guitar than lifting weights and they easily dragged him away as the car went up in flames. Nickoli was crushed, like end of the world, zombie apocalypse: Oh My God! My family has been eaten! - crushed.

Days went by and Nickoli was in a terrible mood all the time. He attended school in a daze snapping at anyone; he went to his job already upset, yelling at people when it took them too long to decide what piercing they wanted. Even when his birthday came, all he could think about was the dumbass driver who couldn’t drive for shit. The driver, who ruined it all, ruined his chance to see the best artist that ever lived, ruined his chance at true happiness, and ruined his entire life.

He didn’t smile when his pals yelled surprise for his surprise birthday party as he entered his apartment. Nor did he care as he opened their gifts. The only thing that pulled him out of his angry, sullen stupor was receiving a small, thin wrapped gift.

Nickoli’s friend, James spoke up. “I heard about what happened dude and I know how much you wanted these tickets, so…open it up.”

Nickoli could feel his heart speed up along with his breathing. He rolled the black sleeves of his Led Zepplin hoodie up in anticipation. He could almost feel himself tear up at the thought of getting a second chance. Not another minute was wasted as he ripped off the wrapping paper and stared at front row tickets to-

“Alice In Chains?” Nickoli looked up confused and his friend looked back at him, just as confused.

“Yes…I heard you bought tickets but lost them…I know how much you love these guys, so I pulled a couple of strings and got these. Though I’m not sure why you camped out on the East Side of the stadium when they were selling these down at the radio station…” His friend gave an anxious chuckle; he didn’t understand why Nickoli was not happy.

“Fu-Fuc-UGH SON OF-DAMN IT ALL!”

“Dude, what’s your problem!?”

“You think I stood in line for 27 hours to wait for Alice in Chains!?”

Everyone was staring now.

James didn’t know what to say so he simply muttered, “Yes, didn’t…you?

Nickoli was fuming. “No!”

“Then what-who.” asked James, completely at a loss.

“I wanted to see Liza Minnelli! Liza fucking Minnelli! GOD!”