The Five People You Meet at a Rock Show

As an avid comncertgoer, I have encountered quite a few types of people at the events. There are always a handful of cliques that pollute the venue. To begin with, there is the group of die-hard fans who show up the night before in hopes of catching a whiff of the exhaust exuding from the muffler of the broken-down white Econoline vans carrying the unsigned garage band that comes far from selling out seats at the Apollo. These are typically people who live near the sleazy bar the band happens to be playing at and think they are exempt from the "no one gets in before the band" rule because they heard of the band long before all those pre-pubescent poseurs they are forced to share air with.

That brings us to the pre-pubescent poseurs; twelve and thirteen year old girls who heard this band was "cool" and decided to go see them in order to be deemed the "cool" kids in their middle schools. They send their overachieving law-firm mommies to Hot Topic while they are playing Barbie dolls to buy an overpriced T-shirt and wristband with the band's logo blazon on the front. They learn the lyrics to the songs played on MTV and go to the show in hopes of leaving with much older boyfriends. They color their hair with pink hairspray and squeal a lot. They stand in line before the show screaming about "oh my God, the lead singer is sooo hot" and "oh my God, I know!"

Next there are the hardxcore moshers, who don't care who is playing as long as they can let out their aggressive frustrations by beating the crap out of other people. They have short, dark hair, wear lots of denim, and keep a sweaty blue bandana tucked halfway into their back right pockets. Once the show starts, they tie the bandanas around their faces, Wild West cowboy style, and proceed to run around in circles, drunkenly flailing their arms in all directions, hoping to cause as much damage to others as possible. They frequently lift up the smaller females to crowd-surf, but rarely engage in it themselves. Most of them come out with a broken nose or a broken rib or, at the very least, a few scratches and bruises, which just makes it all worthwhile.

Then you've got your virgins; first timers who don't know what to expect. Chances are that they are fans of the band and finally convinced their parents to go to a "real" concert because Disney on Ice just doesn't cut it. They get there, anticipating a good time and a nice, tame environment until it actually starts, at which point they are smacked in the face by reality, or by one of the moshers. They get spat on, stepped on, thrown into mosh pits, and usually end up crying. After suffering an atypical morning after, they swear off concerts for good, reasoning that the pain and "concert hangover" simply isn't worth it. It never takes more than a few days for them to realize that they're hooked.

The remainder of the audience is made up of the I'm-too-cool-to-be-here crowd, the stoners, the "concerned parents," and the tight-pantsed emo kids. Every once in a while, you'll come across a bragger, who makes sure everyone knows that they've seen this band fourteen times and has their autographs and slept with the bassist after making out with the drummer. They act like they are best friends with the band, then when they call security to drag them away, they make up excuses for them, like "they must be drunk" or "it's dark. They probably didn't recognize me."

No matter what kind of concert you go to, you're going to encounter these types of people. Take heed, for it is with experience that I say the best way to deal with these people is simply to make fun of them.