Generally, when I attend a punk show, I go expecting to meet new people yes, usually there's fun, frolicking, punching and hackey sack between sets or smoking outside and looking like you're too cool to actually be at the show to really move you towards meeting new people. I really never plan on hooking up with anyone though. Maybe it's because I'm one of the few people who doesn't drink, or maybe it's because while at a show in a church once I watched as a good friends little sister gave head to another friend on a balcony while a crowd formed below and cheered the spectacle. But I just never really thought about doing it.
As I stood at the rim of the circle pit, waiting to throw myself in and be pushed along like one of those fish school tubes at the aquarium by the huge walls of flesh that had become permanent fixtures inside the pit I felt a tap on my back. Expecting it to either be a terrifying bouncer who I would have performed some slight against and must appease or a friend of mine wanting to jump in with me I turned around with a big smile and a jaunty "Hey" only to set eyes on a girl I had never met before. She told me she really liked my jacket, which I found surprising as the only adornments on mine are a warning sticker about fires in the elevator stolen from a school elevator of all places.
Recovering from my confusion at a girl being interested in anything about me, even if it was just my clothes, we quickly went somewhere else to talk. Don't ask me about what, suffice it to say I did something right and we were promptly hooking up on the pool tables normally inhabitated by shady black men but abandoned to the cacophony of sound and snotty teens in leather tonight. Just as plans to visit the bathroom together were under way so as to complete this night of sleazy cheap teen love her friends rolled up. They swarmed the area, giving me the dirtiest looks imaginable, and complaining to their friend that they were all supposed to use the bathroom together (I had thought this phenomenon was reserved to college house parties) with a sigh of annoyance she popped off the table, said she would be back in a minute, to which her friend looked at me again with loathing and said "don't count on it" and they disappeared and apparently left the show as I did not see them again after that, it was a pretty smal venue. Right after she left one of the staff came over and told me I needed to not use their pool tables for any sorts of hijinks other than swindling people from money by hitting balls with sticks. Ignoring all gigolo innuendo I promised to keep that in mind. At least that dude wasn't a cock block.
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