Dear men of last night,*
Well you were a mixed bag, weren’t you? I shall enumerate and name these people so that when I talk about you it will not be confusing.
Fake Viking with the drinking horn, I am sure that you are ashamed that you got out-Viking’d by a girl with her hair in pigtails. Man of the Pit, I approve that you gave me a bracelet, but I am not sure that I entirely approved of being protected quite as ferociously as you felt necessary. Helmet Man, you sleazebag. Birthday Boy, I’m sure you are a very nice person but a pit is not the right place to hit on people. Hairy, thank you for letting me boogie without charging in. Sir Galahad, it is all very well trying to be “chivalrous”, but if I am in the pit then I am there for good reason and you do not need to “tone it down”. This applies to all the men of last night who apologised for knocking in to me – I was there because I chose to be and do not need special treatment! And finally, Creepy Crazy Guy. It’s not cool to be within centimetres of somebody’s face when you do not know them. It is not acceptable to start on people standing at the bus stop waiting to go home. It’s not nice when said people then have to pay £15 to get a taxi home because you would not leave us alone.
So, as you would expect for a Finnish metal band there were a lot of big hairy men around for the gig. The night started in the Pit where I encountered our first of the menfolk. Fake Viking tried to impress upon me his superior Viking-osity with the fact that he’s having a Viking ceremony at his wedding next year – a handfasting! Um, no. His “Odin’s Army” shirt was the next point of contention – horned helmet in evidence! According to you, Fake Viking, the skull should have only had one eye. Again, um. No. It’s a skull. Skull’s have two eye sockets. And my favourite of your attempts to out Viking me – Thor dressing as a woman. Tread carefully Fake Viking, for this was part of my dissertation. No, Thor did not dress as a woman because the giants stole Freyja. Nor did they steal Sif. They stole his hammer, you complete and utter numpty.
After consuming some overly expensive beverages, we trogged along to Rock City. Us being me, Hairy and an incredibly short couple, the girl actually came along after a while and joined me in the pit. Man of the Pit, I meant to give you back the bracelet at the end of the night but then you left, you tubby male Cinderella you! You were slightly over zealous in guarding me though, I didn’t actually need to be dragged out from the centre of the pit.
Ah, Helmet Man. I did fancy your helmet, but then you were attached to it. It turns out that my Hairy was contemplating headbutting through your helmet, which is a bit disappointing to be honest. It promised so much, and delivered so little. I have some advice though – if a girl is more interested in your helmet than you, then you probably don’t have a chance. You should leave her alone and stop with the overly friendly touching. Nothing gropey, just waist level but since I had a cropped top on, I wasn’t particularly comfortable with the touching. Same with you Birthday Boy – calling me a “sexy woman with an axe” while I’m jumping around like a mad thing isn’t actually going to get you laid. Save it for a quieter/less sweaty time!
Hairy, my Hairy. I am sad that you couldn’t join me in the pit. I know that we make a formidable team and I would have appreciated learning a bit more of pit etiquette from you (how to bash people around more than getting bashed). I am pleased that you missed the moment when I got sandwiched between a few elbows, and massively proud that you didn’t see me lose my feet. It only happened twice in an hour long set! Thank you for keeping an eye on me and it made my night to know that you were proud of me for keeping the stances up; also I love that you let me get battered so that I could learn. I am looking forward to the next gig so that we can dance together in the joy of life. Ah Hairy, it was good fun to have Rasputin with you as well.
I am sad that I have no photos to show you, because I had an amazing time and looked damned hot 😀 Seriously, it was roasting in there and all I could smell was hairy man sweat :p
*Context is that I went to see Turisas last night, and shoogled on down to the dance floor and got slightly battered in the pit. It was truly brilliant! Hairy couldn’t join in because he had a bad back, but he watched me from the side and was proud that I knocked down a guy bigger than me 😀
I’m surprisingly hungover for only having had five drinks. Hairy tells me this is because I didn’t hydrate enough while I was dancing. You try hydrating yourself when you lose the bottle of water from your trousers!