It was never my plan to meet American recording artist SZA. She had been one of my favourite singers for a while, but her debut album CTRL, released in June this year, pushed her right into the #1 slot and I knew I had to attend her summer show. Little did I know, I’d be going as more than just an ordinary audience member. 

 

I was on vacation in Israel, dealing with a spotty Internet connection and a seven-hour time difference when I went to buy tickets for her Toronto concert in August. I don’t know if it was stress, exhaustion or excitement, but my eager thumb nicked the ‘meet and greet’ ticket button on the Ticketmaster app. I opened my computer while those tickets were on hold to discover in the minute that had passed since they went on sale, general admission tickets were already sold out and being retailed at triple the price of my ‘meet and greet’ tickets 

on StubHub. 

 

After weighing my options — buying these tickets or being grumpy for eternity — I bought myself my first ever VIP ticket. I was mortified.

 

Not only had I already deemed myself unworthy of her presence — this was a woman who counted Rihanna as a ‘fan’, after all — I couldn’t concoct any ideas of how to illustrate my affection for SZA other than straight up proposing to her. I agonized over the words, gestures or gifts I could utilize to fill our time together for the remainder of my vacation and right up until the day of the concert. 

 

If you’re having a hard time imagining my stress, think of the last public figure you were truly obsessed with — an athlete, a childhood crush or maybe a political figure. Now condense all your feelings about them into the duration of one short interaction that will most likely be your only chance to make a positive impression on them. If you’re nervously sweating and haven’t blinked since you started reading this paragraph, you successfully completed that exercise.

 

I woke up at 8am the day of the concert to begin rehearsing an appreciative, overthought and mildly self-deprecating speech I planned to present to SZA that night. I got to the concert two hours early and spent my spare time finessing each line. 

 

The concert flew by as only the best concerts do; a daze you don’t realize you entered until it’s over. I floated into a line of a hundred or so people that had also paid extra to meet the woman of my dreams. I ran over the speech in my head until I was next in line and as I finished my final practice, SZA’s bodyguard pushed my friend and I towards her. We both said hello and SZA said she recognized us from the crowd. She imitated my dance moves and my jaw dropped to the floor. My friend hurriedly gifted SZA with a necklace, we took a red-eye ridden picture and exited the venue. The whole experience lasted 60 seconds, maybe 90 including travel time. And I loved it more than anything. 

 

You may be thinking, “Josh, I already assumed you were insane based on the rest of this article, but now I have confirmation.” Let me explain.

 

Though my entire VIP experience may sound like a total rip-off on paper — which I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with — I believe the minuscule duration of the meet and greet was in my best interests. In the 60 seconds of my time with SZA, I had no opportunity to give my previously prepared speech or any speech at all. I also had no time to embarrass myself in front of one of my idols. Our time together allowed me to leave the goddess-like image of SZA that I created in my mind undisturbed, in which we’re completely compatible and married. Plus, I got a picture to disperse across my social media channels for years to come. Could I really be upset?

 

Although this experience may not sound ideal to everyone, I was relieved that I didn’t have to worry about what impression I’d leave on SZA because I didn’t have the chance to make one at all. She could remain my mental best friend whilst I basked in the satisfaction of meeting one of my favourite artists. If you ask me, that in itself is priceless.