Which One Are You?

Last weekend Southern California was graced with the presence of M.O.L. Jr. Saturday night, M.O.L. Jr., bobby, and myself went to the Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers at the Roxy. It was a great show, and the first time I'd ever been to a concert with bobby. (I think) Anyway, while I was doing a little people watching I started categorizing everyone. No matter what concert there are always these types of people there. So which one are you?

Front Row Mom: When men hit their mid-life crisis they buy sports cars, hire young attractive secretaries, and dye their hair. Women in their mid-life crisis end up at the front row of concerts. They usually are hammered, and trying to touch the crotch of every person on stage.

The Female Hardcore Fan: She too is in the front row, and usually leaning on lead singer's monitor singing every word to every song. You go through the whole catalogue of emotions in one night. They often travel in pairs or with Front Row Mom.

The Crazy Female Hardcore Fan: Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! I looooooooove this band! Sob. Sob. Sob. They mean so much to me. Sob. Sob. Sob. Eek! I love this song! I don't know why I'm crying. I would do anything for them. Sadly, you often do end up doing anything.

The above categories come in a Skank version as well.

The Stoic Male Hardcore Fan: He is a few rows back. He nods to the beat during the whole concert. Occasionally he'll sing along. He smiles when the band changes something up from the previous 15 shows he's been to. He always hopes they play that one song from that German import EP he got six years ago for $40, but they never do. His only distraction is the cute girl to the left who sings along. If he only had the guts.

The Crazy Male Hardcore Fan: Take everything about SMHF and add flailing of the arms and a lot of screaming. Everyone in the venue hates him, even the band.

The Judge: Not to be confused with the Stoic, even though you have the same records that Stoic has. The difference is you hate the band now. They've never been as good since they got rid of their original guitartist. This new direction the band has taken sucks. You don't sing along except for when they play that first single from their first record, but you eventually catch yourself and feel guilty about it. Some might ask why you are even there or why you still buy every album. You'd give an answer, if you knew yourself.

The Party Girl Fan: As far as you are concerned the band isn't the only show in the building. You are there to drink and dance away the worst week you ever had at work. Heaven help anyone that gets in your way. No boys tonight (unless they are really really cute) just you and your girls. They can sometimes turn into...

The Grinders: Sometimes a couple and sometimes a couple of strangers. Drunk off of your ass you and your partner seem to think that the lack of light allows you to begin the mating ritual. Everyone around you is extremely disgusted, but you're too drunk to care. How you don't rub your hips raw, I have no idea.

The Non-Fan: You can't believe you got suckered into this. Does your life suck this bad? Are you this desperate to please your girlfriend/wife? The band sucks, but your significant other loves them. So you pay your dues for the hope of a little something something afterwards, if she gets drunk enough. The bar is your refuge from the crap on stage. You want to beat the shit out of CMHF.

The Creepy Touchy Drunk: Man, the world is great, man. Man, I love you, and you, and you man. These guys rock, man. Man, you're beautiful, baby. Can I touch your boobies? People are frightened by you. They pray you won't touch them, or that you will stop touching them. Problems really arise when you touch the wrong person. Why would anyone punch someone who loves them so much? You also probably need a ride home.

The Frat Boys: You aren't really a fan. You just heard this band is hot (according to Spin and/or Rollingstone). If they say they are an "it" band they must be right. In your glove compartment your real music collection consists of Creed, Dave Matthews Band, and Candlebox. You also hope there will be some hot chicks. You and your friends travel in packs hitting on anything with heels. You are the one that still thinks it's funny to yell, "Freebird!" You are usually the one punching CTD when he touches you. You hate fags.

The Scenester: You aren't a fan either. You only show up at the concerts of bands who appear on the cover of magazines. You are there to be seen, and hope someone recognizes you. You spend the whole concert chatting and chatting and chatting. When you get home you check Gawker.com to see if anyone puts you up there. You're still waiting for the background work on Saved by the Bell to payoff.

The Rest: You want to have fun and listen to good music. Unfortunately, you often have to deal with those listed above. God bless you.

I will admit sometimes I fall into the Stoic Hardcore Fan category.