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October 26, 1983 I saw AC/DC in Kemper Arena, wearing my home made concert t-shirt and rocking out in the nosebleed seats with my best friend. I was 13 years old, and my parents trusted my older brother to just drop us off and pick us up when it was over.
I remember a ton of skanky chicks, sketchy Mike Damone-looking dudes hanging outside trying to scalp tickets, and then the biker gang sitting next to us smoking weed all night.
They played For Those About To Rock as the encore, and I about shit myself.
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