There’s something I wanted to talk about tonight. Consider this to be a public service announcement. I’ve been to a lot of concerts over the years and there’s one thing that I’ve noticed. No matter where I sit or stand at a show, NO MATTER WHERE, at every show there’s that one guy. You know who he is. You’ve heard him. You’ve sat next to him. Maybe you are him. I’m going to go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and say probably not though.
The guy I’m talking about loves that he’s at the concert. I mean LOVES it. How do we know that? Because he insists on singing 30 times louder than everyone else around him. The most recent example of this was when one of my musical dreams came true last September and I got to see The Pixies. I love The Pixies. I love them about as much as any other college DJ/admitted music snob does. It’s kind of required. But there is a certain degree of “concert etiquette” that everyone should be aware of. It’s just one of those social contract kind of things. While writing this, I did some Googling to look for pictures and came across some other blogs that tackled this subject. What I found was that there have been several blogs written that list all the different types of annoying people you’ll see at a rock concert. Most of them are pretty entertaining and bring up some that I agree with, but I only want to talk about a specific type of guy right now. The guy I’m talking about was sitting in the the same row as mine, about 3 people down. He was apparently there with his girlfriend, who he insisted on holding onto in some sort of headlock that I can only imagine had to be pretty uncomfortable for her. For the entire concert he fist pumped. He jumped up and down. He stomped his feet. And he yelled. He yelled during the songs. He yelled in between songs. He yelled before and after the show. Oh dear god did he yell. He’s that guy. He’s that guy that feels the need to scream his head off just a little bit louder than anyone else THE ENTIRE TIME. Mostly he just yelled, “Woooo!!! Pixiieeeeees! Pixiieeeeeeees! Wooooooo!!!!!” Yeah, dude. It’s the fucking Pixies. We’re all excited. We all bought the ticket. We know who we’re here to see. You wanna take it down a notch? I’m trying to listen to Kim Deal.
I mean, you would have thought that that very night he was introduced to the concept of a live rock and roll performance and it BLEW HIS MIND. I understand the idea of getting excited about seeing your favorite band, but Annoying Concert Guy is an asshat. Don’t be Annoying Concert Guy.
Of course it goes without saying that the movie theater has its own version of this. And it’s much worse. At least at concerts you’re expected to cheer and make noise. I’ve got a few pet peeves in my life: not filling up the ice trays when you put them back in the fridge, people who say, “me likey”, people mixing up “your” and “you’re” (Seriously. It’s NOT THAT HARD). But the biggest one ever, the one that will send me into a flying rage almost, is the jackass or jackasses that insist on making noise in the theater when I’m at the movies. I’ve actually known to grow the biggest pair of balls you’ve ever seen and stand up, go over to someone, and tell them to shut the fuck up right then and there in the theater. I’ve got no problem with that at all. It’s bad enough that going to the movies and eating popcorn these days costs a week’s paycheck, so after laying down a gazillion dollars for a “small” gallon sized soda and a buttered, salted, heart attack in a bag, I didn’t pay all that to listen to some inconsiderate fuckface who can’t keep their mouth shut the entire time.
A prime example of this was last weekend. I went to the movies and saw the new Nicholas Cage thing. Now you’re probably saying at this point that I deserved to be annoyed just for making the mistake of seeing a Nicholas Cage movie, but I would argue that since we’ve all collectively agreed to punish ourselves this way, let’s not make it worse by being inconsiderate and getting on one another’s nerves. As a side note, the movie was Season of the Witch and was totally ridiculous, but I mean, come on, it’s Nicholas Cage. By this point, I know going in what to expect. He’s like that one ex-girlfriend who you know is bad for you. You know by the end of the night you’ll be full of regret and wondering why you fell for it again, but you just can’t stay away.
So I went with my cousin and we go in and sit in the next to last row, way in the back. Behind us are two middle aged, rather large women who are pretty chatty. At this point the lights are still on and the previews haven’t even started up yet, so I don’t mind. My rule is I’ll let it slide all the way into the previews even, but as soon as the movie starts up, shut it. Well, straight away I can see this isn’t going to be good. At every “comedic” moment (and I’m using that term loosely), they cracked up like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. At the scares, they screamed, and between laughs and loud shrieks, they talked NON STOP. Much like Annoying Concert Guy, you would have thought they’d never actually been to a picture show before.
But, this time I was cool. I just leaned over to my cousin and asked him if he minded if we moved, and he was all for it. We went down a little closer to the front, and all was well.
Don’t be Movie Theater Jackass. Movie Theater Jackasses get stabbed in the throat by quiet, unassuming little guys in black t-shirts. Or at the least get yelled at by them.