You approach the kids and say hello. “You guys are awfully young to be here, did you drive yourselves?”
The kids scour at you. “Did you drive yourself?” retorts one of them, a girl in a Thrasher hoodie.
The other one, a boy, offers reconciliation. “We live down the street. We skated here.” He points to two beat up Razor scooters out in the yard.
“I don’t really know if I would call that sk—” You pause. Thrasher hoodie girl is giving you the evil eye.
“You’re lame. Are you 21?” she asks, glaring at you expectantly. Before you can deny her request for alcohol, the lights go down and everyone pushes in toward the stage. Someone pulls the garage door mostly shut.
Whew! Well, you found the stage, met some weirdos and now you’re here! You’re at your very first DIY show. The band is really groovy, everyone seems to be having a good time and you think you’re even building up enough confidence to ask one of the girls with Doc Martens to take a picture of you for Instagram next to a cool tapestry hanging by the stage.
You’re thinking about what to caption it (Maybe “bby’s first college show!!” or “support local bands!” would be cool?) when a short girl with lots of tattoos makes eye contact and grins at you as the music gains tempo. You smile back. She says something friendly you can’t decipher over the music. Wow! Is she flirting?
Nope! She’s just initiating a mosh. She pushes you. Hard. The guy behind you spills his drink down your back. You’ve never done this before! What if someone gets hurt?
Choose one.
Get into the groove and push the girl back before you can psych yourself out.
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