My First Time (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Concerts)
Can a person go from being a virgin to an addict in one short night? I think so. I did. Yes, The Quest was that life-altering. We tried to get John his t-shirt but it was only in small. “Bah” I said, or yelled, or muttered (or at least got the point across somehow) after we waited in line for a half hour. “I knew that would happen,” said John, just as frusterated with the wait as I was. “Still, I’d get the hoodie,” I mimed, and we waded into a sea of people.
Now, crowd dynamics are not a foreign concept to me. I have friends who went to large stadium style concerts and I have read from crowd control people about barriers and the tremendous force people can exert. Despite this, concert crowds are really fun on a small scale. While highly discouraged by anyone with authority in the building, the surges were the best part. Suddenly, you’d find yourself inexorably shoved into a forty-five degree angle with the floor.
Oh, and the music rocked, too. For one, the bass hit in the chest as if a little concert gnomes had been assigned the exclusive task of beating on everyone’s upper body in time with each frequency below 100 Hz. My only regret: we did not make it to the moshing. On our initial drive into the crowd, John and I were pretty pleased with our progress: almost past the non-jumpers and very nearly into moshable territory. Alas, it was not meant to be. Between the two of us, we did not have the courage to make a final pre-concert charge towards the front. “Think we’ll make it any farther?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes looking for a group that would be good to camp behind. My criteria weren’t overly demanding: short, small, preferably female - as long as I could see. “I don’t know,” John replied, “I wish Matt was here to charge through people; that kid is ruthless.” Fortunately, once things started, we forgot our position and enjoyed the show.
The drive there was hilarious. After helping Erin with some Mathematica (which was a fun time, I have decided I am going to find a homework buddy), time was at a premium. We hopped in the car and crossed our fingers. After practicing the time-honored technique of finding the freeway desired (in the wrong direction), and then grabbing an overpass to turn around, we were on our way. Right off the highway into a parking garage, down some stairs, and then running to get there, having only a vague idea of where we were going. The run was short, and we arrived with plenty of time to spare. Thankfully, the line was not bad, and a random group of people were giving out free pizza slices, which I ate only after realizing it could have been free deadly pizza. I counted on the fact that deadly drugs are expensive and killing people with pizza is probably a boring hobby. Suffice to say, the pizza had no deleterious effects.
“Alex!” someone shouted as we waited in line. I looked up to see a group of girls from Grace, looking for tickets. “Sorry,” I said, “I’ve only got my ticket.” Besides, I didn’t know how John felt about being left with a group of women for the evening. Turns out they got in and enjoyed the show thoroughly, which is as it should be. Shame about the scalpers though - they had to pay around $35 a ticket.
Dashboard is in town on May 22nd - my birthday. I think you’ll know where to find me then.