There were a few badasses in my class of 98′. Little punks who would steal cars, rob houses and vandalize property. I never hung out with these guys, but I did know them. Everyone knew of them at least from the police blotter.
I hung out with these same hooligans last night at the casino. Lisa invited me to see Dropkick Murphy’s and hang in the VIP lounge before the show. So there I was, wedged at a small crowded table amongst people I would never expect to chill with.
One of the vandal’s father got us into the lounge. I saw him walking with a limp and felt bad that he was disabled, but it turned out he was just drunk and not crippled. When I got to their table, there were no more chairs for Lisa and I, but the father kept saying “Please sit. Sit down.”
I looked around several times for a chair, but there were none.
“Sit down, please. Just sit on one of these guys laps. Sit sit.”
Me – “Uhhh……”
One of the boys scooted over and shared his seat. Later on we joined chairs together to make a bench. It was cozy.
Me – “Didn’t you guys steal a car once?”
Vandal – “Oh yeah we did. I stole several cars. I was so bad when I was younger, breaking into houses and shit. I have to watch where I go now cause I might run into someone that know’s me.”
I started to loosen up after about 5 strong belvedere tonic’s served in big snifter glasses. The guy sitting to my right (I was practically sitting on his lap) was telling me how much he loves mosh pits. I feigned a bit of interest and asked if he was crazy.
Mosh pit boy – No, it’s just fun to shove people around.
We get to the Arena and stand in line for a beer. Well, I was confused about this because I don’t think we actually stood in line, I remember seeing a line of impatient, thirsty people, but I was never a part of it. One of the impatient thirsty people was wearing a Boston red sox jacket. The sight of the red jacket made mosh pit boy very angry.
Mosh pit boy – “I want to kill that mother fucker.”
Me – “Because of his jacket?”
Mosh pit boy – “I absolutely hate boston fans.”
He said it so vehemently. His anger bewildered me. I was bewildered for much of the night, actually. Two things that I have no comprehension of is sports fan’s and mosh pits.
Everyone had floor seat’s except for Gabe, Lisa and I. Gabe (one of the high school vandals) was dead set on getting to the floor instead of up on the bleachers.
First we tried just following everyone down the stairs, but we got stopped by the women checking tickets. Then we tried from inside the arena to go down the stairs, but we got stopped by the young man guarding the floor.
Gabe – “If I just push him and run into the crowd, what’s he gonna do? Chase me?”
Me – “You can totally do it, but it just depends on how bad you want it. Do you want to be down there that bad?”
We were sitting on our bleacher seats for two, maybe three minutes when Gabe decides to gank his friends wrist bands and tickets who were already safely in the mosh pit below.
His vandal friend met us in the hall and fitted us with his hand-me-down wristbands, but we unknowingly put them on the wrong wrist.
The same women who stopped us the first time from going down the stairs, stopped us again and asked where we got the bands from.
Woman at the door – “I didn’t put that on you, where did you get it? That’s the wrong wrist. How did you get that?”
She sounded angry and upset.
We got away from that lady and secretly changed the bands to the right wrist before going down the escalators on the other side of the arena. We were in.
We dug into the crowd. We dug further and further in until I look up and see the stage only a few yards away. We stop digging (at least I thought we were stopped) and I settle into a little pocket of space shared with a huge sweaty man.
Sweaty man – “Are you sure you want to be here?”
I take a quick glance around and see a crowd of people in close proximity violently slamming into each other.
Me – “Umm….I just followed my friends and I ended up here.”
He bends down to me so his head is level with mine and says “What?” in my ear. Then he slid his wet slimy cheek all over my own cheek – really rubbing it into mine unnecessarily. Then he touched my butt.
I look around and spot Lisa and Gabe standing nearer to the mosh pit. I didn’t want to get any closer, but I had to get away from this sweaty man.
Me – “I’m missing my friends. My friends are gone.”
Sweaty man – “What do they look like?” He sounded really concerned about my well-being.
Me – “They’re way over there. I see them.”
He grabs my hand and barrel’s through the crowd.
I watched an episode of True Blood the other day where a crazed vampire was madly in love with Tara and kept her held hostage and tied to a bed. The vampire was exceedingly nice to her other than raping her and holding her hostage.
The sweaty man reminded me of the crazed love-struck vamp. He just met me and already he was going out of his way to ensure my safety and that all my needs were met.
Lisa, Gabe and Glen were standing on the rim of the mosh pit. Some girl smashes into me and crumples my very full pint of beer into my chest, all down my blouse – then I watch as she gets thrown back into the mosh to get tossed around like a rag doll. I taken a few steps back and found myself a big, sturdy guy who I could use for my wall. A safe buffer between me and the maddness.
Sweaty man spots me, walks over and pushes my tall, sturdy wall into the mosh. He pushed him like he was pushing a person into a swimming pool against their own will. Then he stood next to me like a watch dog. He kept fondly looking down at me. I would look up and smile – what else was I to do?
He was wearing a St. Patty’s day medallion around his neck. He taken it off and given it to me just because I was looking at it.
Then Lisa came over to us and said, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” And so we left.
We left and went to shoot craps.
We played craps for a few hours at one table. Gabe was coaching me on what to do because it was my first time playing. I couldn’t understand it fully. My brain drank too much alcohol and stopped working a long time ago.
Me – “Hiyo!”
I kept pronouncing the crap lingo wrong. It sounded Japanese to me. Gabe was laughing at me and rubbing my head like I was his little sister. He is actually one of the sweetest, nicest vandal’s I ever met.
When it was my turn to roll the dice, I would say things like, “All yall’s kids are gonna eat tonight. Momma’s bringing home the bacon.”
People would chuckle and say, “I like her.”
It was a good time.
I woke up so very hungover today. I’m at my brothers house watching his two big dogs while him and his girlfriend are in Florida.
It turns out that I’m not a fan of big, loud, barky dogs. They run around outside trampling over freshly made poop and then they come inside and run around in the house with poopy paws, jumping on me and getting their poopy paws all on me.
I’m tired. I’m going to watch the last three episodes of True Blood season 3 and go to bed. I hooked my Vuze up to my bro’s Xbox 360, so between netflix and vuze, I have unlimited access to basically any show or movie that I desire.
The dogs woke me up so damn early today. I didn’t go to bed till 4 am.