You two seemed nice enough. A guy and a girl tring to enjoy the Nine Inch Nails show at the Clark County Ampitheater. I was standing behind you, with my dad of all people, basically ruining everything for you. When I spilled my beer down your shirt collar and chair, I saw you jump at the cold mess you had to spend the rest of the show tolerating. When I kept smoking, even though you're not supposed to there, I saw you put up with it. And when all the lights went down and Trent sang "Hurt," I know that it was my drunken belt-along a foot behind your head that you heard above the amps. You gave me a look of "c'mon dude" and I pretended not to care. I did, and I do. That show was probably five years ago, and I've often looked back, knowing that I was the drunk asshole behind you that tainted your (rather expensive) show. I just want to say that I regret it. I'm sorry. I hope when NIN came back, to the Rose Garden this time, that you guys had a better experience. I am sorry.
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