Concert Report

Justin Timberlake
Freitag 25.5.07, 20:00 Uhr
Hanns-Martin-Schleyer-Halle, Stuttgart
The Future Sex Love Show - World Tour 2007

Travel to the concert in the back of La Voiture was not ideal. It was another 30-degree day in Germany and La Voiture's air-conditioning system (see picture) is far from state-of-the art. We were making excellent time to begin with and were sailing along but soon ran into Stau. In stationary traffic, La Voiture's aircon system was ineffective and I began to doze off. Stau boredom quickly set in although a moment of excitement arrived when Zoran, who as well as being Australian, is also Macedonian, spotted a Macedonian number plate:

On nearing the venue, the occupants of the surrounding cars were noticabley young, female, and excited. By the time we had parked up on the top level of the multistorey, the boys' eyes were out on stalks and they were congratulating themselves on their wise decision to attend a Justin concert.

Inside, the atmosphere was so thick it was like trying to breathe through a sour mix of cotton wool, sweat, and hormones. I was, as Justin would say, loving it. We made our way to our seats, which were unfortunately already occupied; being the only competent Deustch speaker among us, it was left to Guido to turf out six women:

"Excuse me. You're in our seats."

"Well someone's in ours. Go sit somewhere else."

"No, you go sit somewhere else. We're sitting here."

"No you're not."

"Move please."

"No, you move."

I couldn't follow the rest but happily Guido won the argument and we sat down. Initially I was disappointed that the standing section was sold out but it was so hot inside that in the end I was glad that I had a square foot to call my own and could find room to breathe.

The stage was long and narrow and ran across the centre of the hall, which meant that, even though we were towards the back, we still had a very good view. If there was a support act then we arrived too late to see it as no sooner had we finished trying to cram all three of us into one photograph then J to the T himself took the stage.

He did a great set and was of course incredibly sexy, especially when he was dancing, which he did frequently. There was rather less screaming and general hysteria among the audience than I am used to from my teenage, boy-band days but perhaps this is only rife among the British. The crowd were a bit quiet although they made a lot of noise when Justin spoke in German (at a level basic enough that Zoran and I could understand!).

We left with ringing ears and sore throats and an even deeper love of Justin (perhaps this was just me. Guido: "I enjoyed maybe six of his songs." He was on for two hours.) and weaved our way through the grid-locked traffic back to La Voiture, who was waiting for us with her lights blaring and illuminating the whole car park. We all stopped and looked at each other in dismay. This could only mean one thing.

Flat Battery.

Guido was livid. "I'm sure I didn't leave the lights on! I swear I didn't!"

The boys opened the bonnet and leaned in closely, in sync, to see if they could identify a solution to the problem. Zoran has always found that tapping the battery a couple of times with a spanner usually sorts things out. Unfortunately we had no spanner. Or jump leads. Or breakdown cover.

I took the above photograph at the same instant they both touched the engine. The flash went off, causing them to jump and hit their heads on the bonnet. This didn't improve the mood. It was 12.30am and we were stuck in Stuttgart. We were also in the middle of a very busy car park being watched by the before-seen young lovelies, and one of us (guess) needed the loo.


The boys went on a search of the nearby cars for Startekabel, avoiding the one that also had its bonnet open and hazzard lights on. They were unsuccessful, and so began the first attempt to bump start La Voiture. I have bump started a few cars in my time but was not confident that I could do anything with a fifteen-year-old rust bucket with a manual choke on a flat run of ten feet. A spectator came over to help and, while he steered and the boys pushed, I hung back and took pictures.

After a couple of runs La Voiture gave a feeble cough and if we'd had a longer run she may have started but as we were in a crowded car park and pushing the car head-on towards another the guy had to keep slamming on the brakes and she gave up. I can only imagine what it must have looked like from their point of view.

After fifteen minutes of fruitless bumping the owner of the above-mentioned broken-down car wandered over, hands in pockets, looking the situation up and down.


"Do you need some Startekabel?"


We all looked at each other. We'd had the bonnet up and had been pushing this car up and down in front of his since we'd arrived and he was parked not five feet from us. Guido was able to speak first.


"What?"

"Startekabel. I have some in the back. Looks like you could use them."

"Yes! It does, doesn't it?!!"


At this point we were joined by a man and a woman from another car, of which the latter was wearing, for some inexplicable reason, a blue towel, and the former helped hook up the jump leads.

I am pleased to say that life was breathed into La Voiture and we were able to head home. The return journey was less eventful than the way there as it was now the very early morning and I slept the whole way back.

Summary: A fabulously amusing evening.

I told my sister about the concert:

"You went to see Justin?! Was he in German?"

"What do you mean?"

"Was he dubbed so that the German people could understand him?"

Bless.