After a night at The Soda Bar to see Fallen Monuments, Surface Report, and Ten Foot Pole, a lady in the crowd has something to say…
Dear Pseudo Knight in Shining Armor,
I realize that you see little ole me at the edge of the pit and your misguided “need to protect” instinct kicks into high gear. But, let me stop you right there. First of all, I’ve probably been going to Punk and Metal shows for longer than you’ve been out of diapers. Secondly, I’m fully aware of the inherent risks involved with standing anywhere near the front at a live show. I assure you, if it bothered me, I’d move. In fact, I quite enjoy it, for probably a lot of the same reasons you do: it gets my adrenaline pumping, it’s a physical release, but in a non-confrontational arena with an unspoken etiquette involved.
I assume that you thought you were being chivalrous by swooping in to rescue me from the flailing arms and crashing bodies, but really all you did was the equivalent of a mosh-pit cock-block, rendering me to that of a tantrum throwing 2 year old who just lost her favorite toy. When you so gallantly stood in front of me, I was more worried about catching your elbow in my eye while you “redirected” bodies away from me than I was from taking a direct hit from the crowd. In summary, I didn’t ask for, nor did I require your altruism. For future reference – Everyone Pits At Own Risk!!!
End. Rant.
Sincerely,
Damsel Not in Distress