My signed ticket
About 20 minutes after British “dark pop” buzzbaby Charli XCX finished her brief set Wednesday night inside Doug Fir Lounge a twentysomething woman to my right asked aloud if anyone had a pen.
We were waiting in a poorly formed line to congratulate the 20-year-old Brit on her captivating performance. “I do,” I answered, passing the fan a blue, dime a dozen pen that, as a reporter, I always keep on me out of habit. It worked, she exclaimed after writing on her hand.
A few minutes passed before Charli XCX’s attention turned to the woman who had my pen and her friends. At this point, I thought they were going to ask the singer to sign a set list or a ticket stub, as I had planned.
Wrong. Wednesday turned out to be my anonymous pen’s breakout.
