Tonight, I went to the Tab Benoit concert at Skipper’s Smokehouse. If you have never heard of Tab Benoit, you should check him out. He is awesome.
What wasn’t so awesome? The drunk, belligerent Baby Boomers that seemed to be in abundance. I am going to chalk up tonight’s crowd to it being Friday the 13th, because I refuse to believe that people old enough to be my parents would carry on like that normally: pushing and shoving their way to the front, spilling their drinks all over people, dancing like they have full range of motion and there wasn’t about 100 people crammed in like sardines in the immediate vicinity, and BEING FUCKING UNAPOLOGETIC FOR IT. I’m pretty sure the crowds at Slayer concerts were more polite.
I’d like to go on record and say that when I drink, I’m not belligerent. I’m rather a happy drunk, and everybody I encounter is my BFF and they are hilarious as all get-out. Hell, I wouldn’t even describe myself as “scrappy” either drunk or sober. That’s just not my way. I’m laid-back. I’m all, “Can’t we just get along and enjoy the show?” But tonight? Tonight was, “I AM SO GOING TO BITCH SLAP SOME 50 YEAR OLD MAN AND NOT EVEN FEEL BAD ABOUT IT SO HELP ME GOD.” The crowd was that obnoxious and I had had just enough drinks to where I simply did not give a shit. And there was one person in particular I had my sights set on: Nike Ball Cap Douchebag Asshole. I wanted blood.
Nike Ball Cap Douchebag Asshole made himself known when he pushed and shoved his way to the stage, plowing over people rather than politely asking to be excused, and spilling his beer all over my friend Jen in the process. When he finally found a good spot, he then proceeded to dance and flail about, like he had all the room in the entire fucking world, oblivious that the rest of us were packed in like sardines. This guy looked to be about 40, making him more Generation X than Baby Boomer, but I didn’t care. After having put up with rude behavior from people much older than him, and having had a few Jack and Cokes under my belt, I wanted to kick his ass.
For awhile, I managed to hold it in. The music was good, my friends and I were dancing, and Nike Ball Cap Douchebag Asshole wasn’t in my way. But then he began to back up into where Jen and I were dancing, oblivious that he was running into us. At the same time, this other douchebag couple, who were Baby Boomers, had pushed and shoved their way into Jen’s and my personal space and I was pissed. I elbowed the douchebag nearest me and said, “Really? Come on,” which managed to get her to move maybe a millimeter away. But then Nike Ball Cap Douchebag Asshole backed up into where my friend and I were standing, bumping into us. Having had enough, I went for his ball cap, intending to throw it behind me into the crowd. He stopped my hand, then left. Victory for me.
Jen and I ended up moving out of the area nearest the stage and enjoying the rest of the show from a safe distance because the assholes were rampant, and we were pretty sure that had we been there any longer, one or both of us would have ended up going to jail. Just before the encore ended, we decided to leave and beat the crowd out of the parking lot. No sooner had I gotten into my car and locked the door, when guess who showed up at my window? NIKE BALL CAP DOUCHEBAG ASSHOLE.
Oddly enough, I wasn’t alarmed, although I probably should have been. I did not roll down my window. I did not open my car door. All of my car doors were locked. The way I figured, I had an advantage because I was safely enclosed in a however-many-ton motor vehicle and he was not. He could either get out of my way or I would hit him with my car, simple as that. I had absolutely no qualms about the latter possibility. Luckily, when I started the car, he moved, and I made it safely home.
Moral of the story? I should probably not drink Jack and Coke while out on the town. Apparently in my older age, they make me scrappy. And I should probably stay away from Skipper’s for awhile. At least until the memory of the asshole Baby Boomers and Nike Ball Cap Douchebag Asshole fade away to the point where I forget why I decided to stay away in the first place.
EDIT: I would like to clarify that when I drove home, I was not drunk. I actually was not drunk the entire night; I had had a few drinks at the beginning of the show, and then stopped because I knew I needed to drive home. So by the time I got in my car, I was fine. Just tired. And pissed. Safety first, kids.