These are the worst of the worst in no particular order:
- The Loud Talkers… Look man, I get it. You wanna tell your friend all about your sweet job, and that sweet shirt, and those sweet shoes, and that sweet popped collar. Don’t get me wrong, you look woke or lit or fleek or whatever. But here’s the thing, I came to the show to watch THE SHOW. Obviously because you’re so attractive and hip, I’ll look at you every once in a while. But for the rest of the time, how about you go to the back and tell your friend all that cool stuff you have to say there so I can focus on the other show?
- The Talls… Well, well, well, you’re eight feet tall, GOOD FOR YOU. I am not, nor is my lady-friend. You know that saying, you make a better door than a window? I think it’s because you’re selfish (no, it doesn’t make sense, and I don’t care). Keep it to the sides and the back, B-Ball-McGee.
- The Drunk… I remember my first beer too, bro. You know who has the most fun when you’re drunk out of your mind? You. Literally no one else. Not the people you bump into (spilling their drink), not your friends who have to help you home, and especially not the artist on stage (because no, they’re not going to play “Free Bird”). You’re the worst.
- The Sex-Worker… Okay, I’m not actually talking about prostitutes here. I’m talking about the couple who are REAL into voyeurism and want to show the world just how gross they can get on the dance floor, or on the bar, or in the bathroom, or in the hallway, or just… ugh. You know who you are. You’re gross.
- The Dancer… Hello, “Tiny Dancer!” This isn’t Footloose, and it’s cool if you dance, but, and this is a big butt, if you hit people on the dance floor while doing your newest move, I will be displeased.
- The Casual Drug User… This is not to say the hard or light drug user is better or worse, but everyone knows you’re lighting up in the crowd. I don’t hate you for doing it, I hate you for the smug grin you’re giving everyone. You’re not a badass. In all honesty, it’s almost legal anyway.
- The “Been There” Guy… WE GET IT! YOU’VE DONE EVERYTHING AND SEEN EVERYONE. TWICE! Instead of rambling on during THIS show, why don’t you tell us at the bar later. Over drinks. That you’re paying for. Even then, I’m probably going to fade in and out, but at least I’ll get to see the band that I’m here for and free drinks. Cause… free drinks.
- The Singer… No, not the person on stage. The one next to you, who knows the tune but not the lyrics, or knows the lyrics but not the tone, or knows the tune and the lyrics and the tone but takes you away from the real singer. I can’t really be angry with you, but since most of this piece is, I am.
- The Emotional… You just broke up with your boo, you’re out with your friends, and you’re “getting over it.” Or so everyone at the venue had hoped. Instead, you are loudly ranting about how much of a horrible person they are, then you’re ranting about how horrible you are, then you’re just sobbing loudly. This person can sometimes be combined with and confused for “The Drunk” but this is on another level. This person wants you to be emotionally involved in their world, even though you didn’t buy tickets to their show or know them. Gonna go ahead and ask you to stay home for this one.
- The Hipster… “I’m more into underground minimalistic electronic Swedish folk funk, tbh.” It’s bad enough that you just said “tbh” out loud, but we get it. You liked the music before we knew what music was. Or something like that. You win. You’re the best. (I’m typing this while looking down at tattooed forearms, through thick rimmed black glasses, while fiddling with gauged ears, I can’t really be that angry at them).
- Karen… You know what you did.
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