I tend to fixate on things. I find my favorite things — stick with them forever and never branch out — The Office, I watch it on repeat and rarely start a new show; About Time, my go-to movie whenever it is my turn to choose; and angsty teen rock bands, Brand New and Taking Back Sunday. I love them forever and will always day dream about John Nolan and tell everyone about the old feud between he and Jesse Lacey.
My taste in music hasn’t evolved since I was 12.
When I was 17, I went through a “concert phase.” I went to every alternative rock show that came through Salt Lake City. I would push my way to the front row, grab onto the bars and spend the next four hours getting crushed, kicked in the head by crowd surfers and drenched in other people’s sweat and spit. So fun!!!
A few weeks ago, when I heard Taking Back Sunday was coming to Seattle, I knew I needed to go. When I bought the tickets, I was moderately excited. Despite how much I love them, like most people, I have calmed down A LOT since I was 17. I looked forward to spending my time at a table in the 21+ only section of the bar and leave the mosh pitting to other people. After all, you don’t need to be right next to the stage to hear the music. Duh.
I’m sure you can tell, that is not where this story is going.
When we got there instinct kicked in! I was powerless to stop it. I moved my way to the front, around the third row, and hung there for the first two bands. Right before TBS got on, I turned to Zach and warned him, “Things are gonna get cray.” And they did. (Zach’s Note: I’ve got a bad feeling about this…I’ve got a bad feeling about this…)
The concert was AMAZING. And, I completely reverted back to my 17-year-old self — fighting people to keep my spot and clutching the front row, screaming my lungs out and ogling John Nolan and Adam. They are STILL as sexy as ever ;).
Luckily, Zach was behind me. He was a great shield and I got humped by zero strangers! I used to take my friend Zooface to concerts, who was an amazing shield. He is huge and was always a brick wall between me and less-than-savory characters. If anyone acted up, he could literally lift them and throw them somewhere else. Zach did a pretty good job filling those shoes.
At the end of the night, I was bruised, covered in confetti and straight up filth, and soaking wet. I was also a little worried that after seeing a whole new level of psycho in me that Zach might be reconsidering our marriage.
We made our way back via the light rail, and I was floating the whole way home (but, not literally. It was actually quite a long walk). Back at the apartment, I showered and scrubbed the grime off my body before passing out on the bed. This morning, I am still bruised, sore and soooooooooo happy. 🙂