I am a big lover of order, stability, and predictability. In that respect, I suppose I resemble Sauron from Lord of the Rings; who was originally corrupted, JR Tolkien said, because of a love of order and stability.
I love my routine. I try very hard not to deviate from my routine. This is actually quite difficult. You see, I have a friend named Chaz.
He was once my roommate, and he is spontaneous in every way I am not. I would have an internal schedule, neatly planned out for the day’s events:
And Chaz was excellent at changing those at the last minute.
I was forced to adapt.
To read Chaz’s absolutely hysterical blog, please visit here.
I actually quite like his spontaneity; it had the effect of spicing up my otherwise sterile and bland life. I just had to be prepared for it.
Eventually Chaz moved out and got married. We still do things together often, and that is where our story turns rather comical.
Chaz is a major music lover. Well…he calls it music. A lot of it sounds like cats being murdered by screech owls.
Anyway, he invited me to go with a group of friends to a concert by a band called MGMT. I’d never heard of them before, and after that night I never wanted to hear of them again.
We headed down to Salt Lake in the late afternoon. Chaz was sampling MGMT’s “music” for the rest of us when a semi-truck carrying boulders the size of cars blew its tires in the oncoming lane. With an almighty crash the truck tipped, sending the boulders across the divide into our lane.
One car in front of us had its entire engine compartment crushed into jelly. We swerved like a drunken sailor around stopped cars and rocks and somehow made it out unscathed.
Well, most of us anyway.
The concert was at Pioneer Park. I was instantly scandalized. You see, I am a fairly boring person. My idea of a wild night on the town is Panda Express and Star Trek Monopoly.
These partiers were using illegal banned substances, as well as substances prohibited by the Word of Wisdom. The stench from many of these people was incredible.
The five minute call for the concert went out, and we all began to crowd around the stage. People got closer to me…and closer…and closer…and closer.
I realized with mounting horror that Chaz and the rest of us had entered the mosh pit-and Chaz had done so deliberately. I have never been in such close physical proximity to complete strangers before in my entire life. People were touching me.
It didn’t help that I was sandwiched between two enormous individuals who were at least a head, shoulders and chest taller than me. One was Chaz’s friend, and he had experience with mosh pits-never, ever give ground. The other guy was a complete stranger and kept backing up into me, but I couldn’t go back any further without running into Chaz’s friend. I became extremely familiar with the stranger’s back. It didn’t help that the he was sweating buckets.
The stench of spice and marijuana permeated the air. People were cheering, shouting, swearing, crying and jumping up and down, and the concert hadn’t even started yet!
The music began with a massive shockwave, bowling over the first few rows of people as MGMT came on the stage. Loud cheers split the air and the crowd went wild. Cups full of beer were thrown in the air, giving me a premature bath.
We were only there two or three hours, but it felt like an eternity. As the night wore on, the crowd became more…exuberant. I watched an empty beer bottle soar through the air and hit a guy on the top of the head, showering me with glass.
All through this experience, people kept touching me. The crowd moved and swirled around me, buffeting me like a buoy on the surface of the ocean. Several times Chaz had to grab me by my arm and steer me back to where they were.
At this point a beastly, bulging man appeared out of nowhere. After talking to the stranger in front of me, his drug-addled brain determined that I was the perfect person to discuss his theory of ideal government with.
It’s rather sad that even drug addicts can tell I’m a political science major.
Finally, finally the concert concluded and the crowd began to disperse. We were doused in sweat (most not our own), shards of glass, beer and even blood. I staggered back to the car with my friends. The only notable thing that happened after that were the guys we passed in the street dressed like characters from Hello Kitty.
When I stumbled into my apartment and disrobed, I discovered a rather disgusting fact: my clothes were so dirty and stiff that they retained their shape even when I took them off.
It was an experience never to be forgotten. Also never to be relived. Chaz and I still do many things together, but concerts are not among them.