Only on a date

I met someone new.  He's been vetted by my best friend, who after threatening his existence should he displease me, gave me the thumbs up.

I have issues with crowds.  More importantly I have issues with assholes.  Put the two together and you'll find someone who hasn't been to a lot of shows.  I typically hate crowds more than I love music which is a lot.  Words like phobia and anxiety have been used.

Most of our discussion when not together has been had over IM and text.  I get a text, "Hey, call me."  I knew it was important.  We have spoken on the phone only when we couldn't type fast enough to articulate what we had to say or there was driving involved.  "Remember that Japanese punk band I told you about?..." After warnings about staying out late and parking and walking and meeting his friend and assuring him that I'd be fine in a crowd, I agreed to go.  It had nothing to do with the promise to hold my hand.  (Ok, maybe a little.)  All I could think is, "I'm a blonde now, I'm 86 pounds lighter, I like having my hand held and this is the coolest thing I'll ever do."

Walking to the show from the car I couldn't help but regret my jeans and tee-shirt and then I saw this guy in front of us with a poorly placed ball cap and hair the color of synthetic banana food additive.  "That's the lead singer of the band.  Don't make fun of people in Austin because they might be a member of the band."  I just gave him the, that color does not occur in nature look.  What do I know and who am I to judge?  I was the one paying to see him perform.


Drinks were had and friends were made and it started to rain and finally the show started.  It was 12:30am and I may be a night person but I'm usually in bed before 1:00am.  I don't know at what point he started holding my hand, but it was being held at this point and I was pleased and even a bit distracted but pleasantly so.  The rain brought the crowd in closer and there were a few people who were assholes but I didn't even think about throat-punching any of them.  


The coolest part about this entire show was the pink girl.  She was a keyboardist and she was really into it.  She was screaming "MAD TIGER!" Off key into the microphone and maybe not in time with the others but that was fine too.  These guys are silly and they dress like power rangers.  They are there to have fun with a crowd that's there to let them lead us through their crazy imaginings.  At one point the bass guitarist puts on an alien costume that is entirely too unwieldy but he makes it work while he rocks it.  In the following picture he's standing on the crowd's hands.  He then tied himself to the rafter and hung by one foot  while he played the bass guitar.

You don't see that at your everyday punk rock show.  There is no way I would have encountered this on my own.  My one resource for this information wouldn't have told me because she would safely have assumed I didn't want to see a bunch of Japanese guys in Power Rangers uniforms hanging from the rafters while singing poorly articulated English songs about Ninja high schools and the punk rock rendition of Old McDonald Had a Farm.  That is a safe assumption for her to make.  My date on the other hand had no such assumptions to bind him from thinking I might enjoy the show if I could work past the crowd.

As a result of seeing the show I had a great evening and some seriously good fun.  I've earned Indie Credit in the eyes of new and old friends alike.  I feel like I'm living closer to the edge for a change.  I'm still safely bound to the responsibilities I carry but I've also seen that the tether goes farther than I thought it did.

I haven't decided yet if, at work, I will explain in detail about my weekend.  A few of them know that I'm seeing someone.  Most of them don't listen to punk rock and I'm absolutely certain the only context they have for the Power Rangers would be through their grand children.  This is why they sit me in the back.