Yes, another post about John Mayer. Get over it.

I noticed recently I’ve lost a few followers on Twitter. Thankfully, my cousin Jon hasn’t defected yet. But I’m sure those who have did so because of my incessant posts about John Mayer.

That’s the fun of the internet, kids. We can post whatever we want. Drunk cooking. Cat hairball necklaces (which is a real thing I saw on Regretsy once). John Mayer is on the awesome-spectrum somewhere in between those two. In other words, it could be worse. 

Two amazing, amazing things have happened this week. Well, three really. The first one snuck up on me. That is, I fell in love with John Mayer again (and decided to tell the whole internet).

The second and third things were just as unexpected as my return to JM fandom, and are serving this renewed enthusiasm quite well.

I’m going to admit something now that is really embarrassing. Like, more embarrassing than that time I forgot the words to the National Anthem during my solo in front of a gymnasium full of people (true story). You see, in order to minimize the sheer volume of my JM-related content on the internet perused by the general public, I often confine my posts to the John Mayer Discussion Board. Yep, you read that right. I frequent a John Mayer internet forum.

But you know what? My participation in that forum has directly resulted in what may just be two of the best concert-going experiences I’ll ever live through. So I’m gonna hold my forum-trolling head high, thankyouverymuch.

I’ve already decided to part with my tickets to the show in LA in October – I just can’t swing the trip out there. But when I started to sell my tickets to the Virginia Beach show, I just couldn’t post the listing. The tickets – 15th row center – were better than my seats in Chicago, and I’ve been dying to see VA Beach and the friend who lives there (and agreed to see the show with me!).

Then I read a post for this particular show mentioning something about really great seats being newly available. Figuring I’d rather check it out and call bullshit than miss out on an upgrade, I clicked over to Ticketmaster. First pull: Section 2, Row B.

ROW B.

SECOND ROW.

I had to check, and double check, and triple check that this was really happening. Second row at an arena show? I’m still not sure how it happened. But I’m sure as hell not complaining. In fact, when I called Ticketmaster about trading in my 15th row seats, I wasn’t even mad they wouldn’t refund their fees. Sure, Ticketmaster, you greedy son of a gun – get your fees from me and again when you resell my old tickets. Whatever. I HAVE SECOND ROW SEATS.

There’s the smallest part of me skeptical about the amazing-ness of these seats. I’ve never met the guy and I don’t really want to. I don’t want to see what’s behind the curtain, lest I stop believing in the Wizard. But seats this close…will this be almost the same thing, and I’ll end up being disillusioned? It’ll be like looking at the mirror too closely and actually seeing the pores, the random stray eyebrow hairs – maybe it’s just better to keep a distance?

Who am I kidding?! It’s going to be incredible.

The third thing this week just happened about an hour ago, and I’m still not sure if it’s cooler than second row seats. Turns out he’s doing a Live on Letterman mini-concert on Monday night. Tickets didn’t go on sale – instead, you entered via the Born & Raised Tour app. And boy, did I enter. Over and over and over again. Thank goodness for Google autofill!

Sure enough, tonight I found the email (buried in my spam folder) that I’ve won a ticket! I’ve seen Late Night – that studio doesn’t look too huge. I may be one of just a few hundred with my name on that VIP list. I knew moving to New York would be good for me – I just had no idea how good.

There. John Mayer. John Mayer. John Mayer. And cat hairball necklaces.