This is a special little story about the only KISS concert I’ve ever been to. It involves me, a friend, Paul Stanley and a man in a wheelchair. Complete with detailed illustrations.

A few years ago, when I lived in Southern California, KISS booked a show at a small venue outside of town. Since the venue only held about 1,500 people, tickets were going for upwards of $200. Which is probably pretty normal for KISS, but not normal for mortal human beings like myself.

I caught a break. This particular venue happened to be a casino, in which upon my buddy happened to be a blackjack dealer. Let’s call him Sam.

One day I talked to Sam and said, “Hey, did you hear that KISS is coming?”

He says, “Yeah man, I may have an extra free ticket if you want to go. I’ll let you know.”

“Hell yeah I wanna go! Tell me when you get that ticket!” I said.

Several days went by and I didn’t hear from Sam. I was starting to doubt whether he would pull through. Then, the day before the show, Sam calls.

“Hey man, still want to go see KISS?”

“YESSS!”

And so, on the day of the show, I met Sam at the venue and got my free ticket to KISS. Stoked!

I saw Sam and, as expected, he was with his girlfriend. There was someone else though, some guy in a wheelchair that I didn’t recognize. I knew his girlfriend, we had met before, but I didn’t know who this guy in the wheelchair was.

Sam introduced me to his friend in the wheelchair, who we’ll call T-Bone, and proceeds to tell me that since he got two of the tickets at the last minute, that all four of us can’t sit together.

Ok, whatever, I’ll roll T-Bone around and rock-out, I don’t care.

T-Bone was bald and looked a little skinny, but otherwise he seemed alright. I didn’t ask him what his “condition” was, but judging by his appearance I just assumed that he had cancer or recently went through some shitty illness. I decided that I’d just talk with him about KISS and about music stuff, rather than whatever was wrong with him.

After a few minutes of conversing he tells me that he used to be a roadie for System of a Down. Hey, this guy is kinda cool!

I push T-Bone in his wheelchair to our seats, which was right around in the middle of the venue – not in the front, not in the back. I was perfectly happy with our seats, but since T-Bone was in a wheelchair, the venue staff decided to move us up a little closer to an area on the side with more room. Nice!

At most concerts, if you payed $200 for a ticket you’d expect to see no less than about 40 bands. But tonight was KISS only, which I thought was actually kind of cool because sometimes a lot of opening bands for major acts suck.

KISS take the stage, right on time, and everyone starts having a good time. Paul Stanley puts on a great show talking with the crowd, Gene Simmons is rousing up some people up front and “tonguing” young vixens in the crowd, and the rest of KISS is, well, no one cares what they’re doing (no more Peter Criss or Ace Frehley).

Right around this time, the venue staff come up to us and move us closer to the stage. I wheel T-Bone up closer and he tells me that his “meds are kicking in”, which I assume is a normal thing. It is. He’s totally tripping balls, rocking out.

A few songs later, I start to notice that the venue staff keeps urging us to go up front. So, without further ado, I wheel T-Bone up closer to the stage. Like, right up front. Seriously, look how close we were:

That’s right – the only thing between us and Gene Simmons was a thin layer of latex and 4-inch heels.

Holee Shit. Sitting with T-Bone was actually a blessing in disguise! Rather than being stuck in some handicapped corner, we got pushed right up front – by the venue staff themselves!

A few minutes after we arrive front-and-center, Paul Stanley takes notice of T-Bone, points at him, and gives him a guitar pick. Are you kidding me!? I thought. T-Bone is like the most envied person in here! Well, kinda.

The party proceeds through the night, through several encores, and finally ends in typical KISS-confetti fashion.

That was way funner than I thought it was going to be. Thanks to T-Bone, we got to go right up front and practically touch the band. If we had moved any closer, we’d be backstage right now watching a bunch of under-age women trying to stop Gene from having sex with them.

I couldn’t help but feel a little sad though, was this going to be T-Bone’s last concert? He really had a good time, I hope he wasn’t dying or something.

I wheeled T-Bone back to where Sam and his girlfriend where. T-Bone then said something kind of strange:

It turns out that T-Bone had been sitting on one of those inflatable donut thingies all night in his wheelchair.

Oh Shit, I thought the worst.

I wonder if he had his anus removed in a tragic car crash?

Was he disemboweled in a freak stage accident with System of a Down?

Curiousity was killing me and I decided to finally ask.

I couldn’t believe it. T-Bone had been playing it up all night!

Dude, I have at least 3 hemorrhoids and I’m not rolling around in a wheelchair! What was that business about “your meds kicking in?” I said.

It was my pain killers, they gives me some pretty far-out visuals and stuff. he replied.

Paul Stanley pointed at you! He thought you were crippled or something! I said.

Yeah. Pretty crazy, huh? he replied.

Yeah, crazy is right! I thought I was wheeling around a cancer patient and really I was hanging with someone who had his ass operated on. I mean, I wouldn’t want that to happen to anyone, but I thought T-Bone acted like he had some debilitating injury. So did everyone else!

We all walked (rolled) out of the venue and found our way to the parking lot (T-Bone had his car valet parked) and waited.

We wait for a few minutes on the curb and finally his vehicle arrives.

Alright, guys, it was fun. He says. Sam rolls him to his car.

Yeah. Even if everyone did think you were dying. I thought.

Then, you know what happens? T-Bone stands up, gets out of his wheelchair and hops in the driver’s seat. I felt like everyone there was staring at us, wondering what the hell was going on. I wanted to say, “I SWEAR I had no idea that he could walk!”

What the hell just happened? I ask Sam.

What do you mean? He says.

T-Bone is in a wheelchair all night and now he can drive?

Yeah, so?

Dude, Paul Stanley thought he had cancer or something. Didn’t you see him point him out up front?!

Haha, no, I missed that. But it sounds cool.

We totally got the special treatment!

I’m sorry man, I should’ve told you about him. Sam says.

Yeah, well, don’t be…it was killer. I wish I had him with me at every concert I’ve been to.

The moral of the story is…

Wheelchairs are awesome.

Oh, also, get your behind checked before it gets too late and you need surgery.

THE END.