The Best Time I Took My “Girlfriend” to See Britney Spears

by Josh Kurp

Ever since fourth grade I’d thought Allison was the perfect girl: outgoing and cute, with pretty hair and a nice laugh. I kept my feelings private for years, however, until the seventh grade, when my hormones kicked in and I decided to ask her out on a date, a concert date.

But what show should I take her to? Bob Dylan, Dave Matthews Band, the Allman Brothers Band, Creed, and Red Hot Chili Peppers were all coming to town that summer, but my choice came down to Pearl Jam (with openers Sonic Youth) or Britney Spears, touring in support of Oops!…I Did It Again. Needless to say, I chose Britney, whom I loved (love) dearly.

I bought two tickets ($30 each!) and thought out an elaborate way of giving Allison hers that involved a school-wide scavenger hunt, but instead got shy and just gave it to Allison’s friend Judi, who then passed it on to Allison during recess and reported back to me that “She said yes!” Hearing this, I joined my friends in playing the greatest game of Wall Ball in my middle school’s history.

That was in June, shortly before school let out, and the concert was in August. Here’s the extent of our interactions between then, all written in the Y2K-themed diary that I kept at the time:

July 16: Allison has been in my mind 24/7. I look at her and think how her and Christina Aguliera look the same. She must have gotten my postcard saying to call me that I sent earlier in the month. Every time the phone rings, I hope. Talk to you later. Bye.

July 19: Tyler is coming over on Saturday and he is going to try to get me to call Allison. I really want to call her. You are the only object or thing I can say my feelings to. I am not confused but well, I can’t say how I feel. I can say I love her, but words alone can’t describe how I feel about her. Talk to you later. Bye.

July 20: Allison. Is there no other better word I repeat it in my head day after day. I desperately (truly, madly, deeply) [AUTHOR’S NOTE: Yes, that is a Savage Garden reference] want to see her and my number one goal: get her to really like me and to kiss her. Saying you love a person is way more than just a five-minute crush, it is saying you care and really like them. I guess I can say this then, “I Love Allison.” Talk to you later. Bye.

July 24: Tyler did make me call Allison. I called her (well, Tyler did) but I talked to her. I could have asked hundreds of questions, but only one came out, “Are we still on for the concert?” She said, “Yes.” Talk to you later. Bye.

Yeah, we were hot and heavy, a talk-of-the-town type couple. She was the Nicole to my Chase (that’s a reference to the 1999 romantic comedy classic Drive Me Crazy). The day before the concert, I called her again and somehow managed to mutter a few words about when we’d meet, how we’d get there, etc. She told me that — uh oh! — a friend of hers, Jordan, would be going with us, and that Jordan’s parents would drive (and her mom would stay, too), while my mom would pick us up after.

On the day of the concert, I called my dad for some first-date advice, and he told me that I couldn’t go wrong by putting on some cologne. So I found a sample from the most recent issue of Sports Illustrated and rubbed it against my chest. Wearing my best pair of jean shorts and smelling what I assumed my male heroes Rob Thomas and Adam Duritz smelled like, I was ready to impress my future wife.

Four things went wrong before Britney even took the stage:

1. Around 4 p.m., Jordan’s mom pulled into my driveway, bringing with her Jordan and Allison. I entered into the car and asked Allison if she had her ticket, to which she replied, “Um, I thought you had it?” Turns out, she thought what I, meaning Judi, had given her all those months ago was the receipt for the ticket, not the ticket itself, and after driving back to her house, it was determined she either threw it away or it was somewhere forever lost in her room. I promised Allison that when we arrived at the show, I would purchase a ticket for her from either a scalper or the box office.

2. Tickets were, of course, sold out, so we had to go the scalper route. I don’t remember exactly what happened next, or how I could have been so stupid, but somehow Allison ended up paying $60 for the new ticket, twice their actual cost. I was, clearly, not a cheap date.

3. Among hundreds of pre-teen girls there, I was one of the few males, and eventually the conversation we struck up with a gaggle of nearby Britney fans steered towards which member of *NSYNC I looked like. It was quickly determined that if one had to be chosen, it’d be Joey Fatone, a.k.a. Fat One.

4. The opening group was supposed to be 2gether, MTV’s once-fake, then-real boy band who sang “U + Me=Us (Calculus)” and “The Hardest Part about Breaking Up (Is Getting Back Your Clothes),” two songs I legitimately liked and more than legitimately sang loudly many times. I say “was supposed to be” because shortly before they took scheduled to the stage, it was announced that 2gether wouldn’t be able to make it. With no Twitter to speculate the reasoning why, we were left to our own collective imaginations, but because we were 13 years old, we stopped caring about five minutes later. (In January 2001, less than five months after the concert, Michael Cuccione, 2gether’s QT, passed away from respiratory failure at the age of 16.)

At 8 p.m., the show began with Britney entering in a giant orb to “(You Drive Me) Crazy,” and it was pandemonium. There was shrieking and jumping and dancing and “OH MY GOD!” and everything that you’d expect at a concert for the most popular pop star in the world. Britney wore a different outfit for every song, often resembling what she wore in the music videos (a schoolgirl outfit for “…Baby One More Time,” for instance). There were pyrotechnics and audience interactions and boring dance interludes. She played all the hits, from “Sometimes” to “Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know,” and even included some covers (“(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” and Sonny and Cher’s “The Beat Goes On”), and as far as I could tell she actually sang most of the show, only lip-synching occasionally.

On our particular blanket, though, there was little joy. I was singing along to “Stronger” and “Lucky,” which I still consider Britney’s best song, but Allison remained quiet. She looked uncomfortable and out of place, and the next morning it dawned on me: I knew nothing about her. Although I had technically known Allison for years, and had even convinced myself I was in love with her, when I actually got to spend time with her, I had nothing to say to her and she had nothing to say to me. Not even listening to “From the Bottom of My Broken Heart” together (live!) could bring us closer.

But, like I said, I didn’t realize any of that until the following day, and at the concert I had one last trick up my sleeve to make Allison realize I was born to make her happy. After 12 songs and a short encore, Britney returned to perform “Oops!…” The audience exploded and my heart started beating faster. In my pocket, I had a necklace that I had bought specifically for this moment, to give to Allison at the same instant that the song’s astronaut/deep-sea diver hands Britney one, too (in retrospect: It’s a little odd that “Oops!…” references Titanic; the film had already been out of the theater for well over a year when the single was released). This was my Heart of the Ocean, and I was ready to give it to Allison. When the spoken interlude began — “Britney, before you go, there’s something I want you to have” — I reached into my pocket, put my hand on the box holding the necklace, and … did nothing. Thinking of Allison’s potential response terrified me too much, and when the show ended, I hated myself for, once again, not being bold enough to show her how I really felt.

As Jordan, Jordan’s mom, Allison, and I left the show to meet up with my mom, we walked past a group of older men who were there simply to ogle the 18-year-old Britney Spears, and I thought to myself, “That’s my future right there.” The humiliation continued when Allison fell asleep on the car ride home and my mom’s cell phone rang. It was my uncle, who wanted to hear about how my first date went, so she passed me the phone. I said, “It’s been fine. We’re driving back now. Allison went to sleep beside me.” He yelled, “You’re sleeping with her?!?”

Josh Kurp and Allison haven’t spoken in person since.