"Call this number, ask for Sergil, tell him Johnny sent you," was what I was told over the phone. Feeling somewhat illicit, I called, asked for Sergil and was answered by a man with an extremely thick, unidentifiable accent. He asked me what I wanted. He named a price that was twice the so-called "legit" price. I told him I was a poor college kid and would pay only one-third more than the "legit" price. We talked to "his guy" on the street and we made a deal.

That same night I drove to an out of the way suite 10 miles outside of L.A. I am not very strong and, even though I had my pepper spray in hand, I was relieved to see the sign for Gold Cost tickets, which looked "legit". I talked to "Sergil," checked the merch, detrmined that it was real, and handed him my $45 for the ticket to Belle and Sebastian. I left relieved; another kid from Ohio had his first LA ticket buying experience. Scary indeed.

Concert night. After a quick run to the border for dinner, a few friends and I reached the Wiltern Theatre, a venue located on Western and Wilshire (hence the name Wiltern). It was all this Ohio kid had dreamed of: a bunch of hipster kids, cigarettes in hand, stood around a lit marquee–too cool to go in to the concert venue so early. I straightened my collar–much like the Fonz would have–and walked by all of them and right in. It really is all about the attitude.

Once inside, I was surprised at what I found. L.A.’s Wiltern is a far cry from the Ohio State fair, where one can see the likes of Shania Twain and Lyle Lovett and a huge soccer ball made of butter. This was a classy place, almost like a real theatre: carpet, seats etc. However, it didn’t just look different, it smelled different. Unlike the nostalgic smell of cigarettes and beer that most indoor venues smelled like, this one felt more like an office building. Antiseptic, but also suffocating.

I quickly spent all the money my parents gave me for college, buying a $20 tee-shirt. I then proceeded to the front row. This was general admission after all. Unfortunately, I was son accosted by a large guard, who informed me that I did not in fact have the special wristband to get into this exclusive area. This wristband allowed the lucky few to stand by the stage far away from the throngs of people forced into seats. The need for distinction…

I sat through opener Jonathan Richman, who felt more like a novelty act than anything else. He was a mix between a Vegas lounge singer and perhaps a drunken children’s entertainer. He sang and danced and talked to no apparent person while on stage. Entertaining as this might seem, I was still shaken up from my encounter with the security guard and spent most of my time staring longingly at the front row.

After Jonathan Richman’s set, I snuck up to the fence dividing the chosen ones in the front row and the masses. Checking both guards, I felt like James Bond. I waited for each one to turn his head the other way and, with a sudden burst of adrenaline and hops like Lamar Odom, I jumped the fence and hit the floor.

Success. Suddenly aware of my naked wrists, a dead give away to the patrolling bouncers I covered them with my shirt and stood as close as I could to the kind of cute girl with the glasses.

For thirty minutes I hid, sweated profusely and kept to myself. Then Belle and Sebastian made it onto the stage. It was their first show in LA in six years and they pulled out all the stops. Their 14-piece ensemble included a cello, a trumpet, three guitars, a piano, a synthesizer, an organ, one of those percussion eggs you shake, four violins, a French horn and a drum set.

The set was surreal and it incorporated a mix of new and old songs from almost all of their albums. The band shied away from their first album Tigermilk, but played three hits off their second album, "If You’re Feeling Sinister" including "Fox in the Snow," "If You’re Feeling Sinister" and "Like Dylan in the Movies." The vocal performances, especially Isobel Campbell’s were amazing. Her sugary soft voice sounded much like those on the studio album, but more authentic.

Belle and Sebastian’s on-stage antics were as endearing as their music. Halfway through their set the lead singer Stuart Murdoch invited two sharply dressed fans on stage to danc with him. Later on he called a hysterical, somewhat embarrassed fan up on stage and had her sing "Take Me Out to The Ball Game" for what they called their set’s seventh inning stretch. Finally, near the end of the set, they covered The Mama’s and the Papa’s hit "Creeque Alley" as a tribute to California and the bands it has produced.

The band members’ appearance stood in stark contrast to their elaborate set up. They did not look like models or rock stars, but like regular people of various body types and sizes. They did not dress in elaborate costumes or outfits, but like any person I might see on campus. (In this, they were unlike their homogenous hipster following.)

Overall, the show was amazing. I was, however, disappointed that they did not play an encore. They had not played in LA in six years and came from Glasgow, Scotland. They could have at least played an encore. They also avoided Tigermilk, my favorite album. However, I’m not bitter. It was a great performance and well worth the cost and effort. If they come back to LA in the next five years make sure you go see them. Oh yeah, and if you ever go to the Wiltern, stick it to the man and jump the fence.