Abstract:
In this observational study, I document the migratory patterns, mating behaviors, and seat selection rituals of concertgoers attending a Disturbed concert in Fort Worth, Texas. Findings include questionable decision-making, unexpected alliances, and the enduring mystery of why middle-aged women keep yelling for nudity.
Yesterday, I found myself at a Disturbed concert in Fort Worth. I wouldn’t consider myself a fan, necessarily, but I don’t hate their music either. I’d heard they were worth seeing live at least once, and the tickets were cheap enough, so I figured: why not.
Something worth mentioning is that I don’t think I really have any close friends that are major Disturbed fans (If you’re reading this and you’re a close friend who likes Disturbed and I forgot to ask, go ahead and send me a hate text. I’ll accept it as penance.). I had asked a few people if they would be interested in joining me but rightfully assumed I wouldn’t get any takers.
Not a huge deal. Beckah had no interest in going to the concert, but figured we’d make a small weekend get-away out of it, and I saw it as a chance to experience a concert by myself.
We got to Fort Worth on Friday evening with very little pomp and circumstance. Spent Saturday afternoon working out, swimming at the hotel, and doing a whole lot of nothing. 5pm rolled around, and I ordered a Lyft to take me to the venue. Got there a little after doors opened, with enough time to grab some food and easily find my seat.
When I found my seat, there was a group standing in the aisle, comprised of two men and two women. I scooted past them and found my spot. As I sat down, I heard one of the men say to the other guy, “that’s your seat”, and motioned towards me. They then walked into the aisle in front of me and sat down. I didn’t think much of it and continued to munch on my tacos and chased them down with a lukewarm bottle of water. Total cost: $17.50, plus a required tip.
Yay, concert food prices.
Concert gets started, and the good vibes start rolling. I’m already a fan of the first act, Nothing More, and by the time they finish I’ve still got an empty seat next to me. I figure the owner will show up at some point. No biggie for me, and I’ll just keep enjoying the extra arm room.
Short-lived.
About halfway through the second act, I notice a couple of guys in the walkway trying to find their spots. They’re looking in the row in front of me, and they seem to think their seat must be on the opposite side. I can tell they’re about to commit one of my most despised concert crimes:
making an entire row stand up so you can get to your seat — all the way at the opposite end — instead of just going around like a functioning human being.
Yes, I know that this is impossible if one side of the ends at a wall, but that is honestly an edge case (Hehe — wall humor). Right as they’re about to do it, one of them motions to the other that they should go around, and instantly they win a gold star in my book. These are some cool dudes.
Unfortunately, their good karma doesn’t get them far, as they find themselves right back at the aisle in front of me. Turns out, someone is sitting in their seat. Who is it? Just one of the guys that was part of that first group I mentioned. His plan was clearly to just sit with his group and hope no one noticed.
Spoiler: They noticed.
And where is his seat? Ah yes…right next to me.
Dude is probably late 40s, appears to have seen better days, and is holding a half-drank beer in his hand as he long-steps over the row and plops down next to me. It all checks out. For the sake of clarity, we’ll just call him Shane. Shane looks at me and then the guy on the other side of him and proclaims, “you guys are a lot uglier than my girl down there,” motioning to the lady he was sitting next to. I can only assume that he was a last-minute addition to the group, or they’re just really bad at reserving straight lines. Either way, he’s my problem now.
This man, who at this point was probably 60% Miller Lite and 40% poor decisions, then proceeds to whip out his phone and record almost the entire concert.
After the second act — Daughtry (yeah, apparently, he’s still around?) — Shane turns to me and asks, “When is Three Days Grace supposed to go on?” “Buddy,”, I think, “this is going to come as a major shock, but they’re not here. In fact, they’re not even on this tour.” Instead, I just say, “Yeah, I’m not sure man.”
The two guys in front of me, we’ll call them Noah and Beau, eventually go to grab some refreshments. At this point, Shane scoots back into the seat next to his lady.
They then begin to make-out.
It’s at this point that I’m legit wishing I wasn’t there by myself because I truly needed a witness to corroborate this story with me.
Noah and Beau eventually make their way back and Shane is forced to move back to the seat beside me. Noah mentions to Shane’s girl that “there are empty seats at the end of the aisle that she and Shane could take”. She tells him that they don’t want to inconvenience anyone, so they’re good for now.
Cool.
Everyone is waiting for the final act, Disturbed, to get set up, so the two of them then leave to get some more beers. Their third run at this point. After they’ve left, I lean over to Noah and Beau and begin to chat them up about the whole conversation. I’ve been impressed by how chill they’ve been about all of it. Turns out, they’re super nice guys…and have had four shots of whiskey as well. I guess I’d be chill about a lot of stuff as well at that point.
Turns out, the two of them are grade school friends from California. They’ve been huge Disturbed fans since they were kids, and it’s a major way that they bonded. I dig it. About three years prior, one moved to Texas and the other moved to Idaho. This is their first time being able to experience a Disturbed concert together. Like I said, solidly cool guys.
Shane arrives back with his chick, and they have now decided that she will simply sit on his lap for the entirety of Disturbed’s set. Okay, yeah, that won’t be carnal or weird at all. Shane then puts one hand on my head, and another on the head of the guy on the other side of him, gives us noogies and says, “I like you guys, but she’s a lot prettier!”
Thank the Lord for Noah, who swoops in for the save.
“Hey Josh, why don’t you just switch spots with her and you can join us on this row?”
OMG
Why did I not think of this sooner? I mean, it’s not even a worse seat. It’s a row closer to the stage, and I don’t have to deal with Shane.
So, I join the Cali bros. And I’ll tell you right now that that was such a good decision. These dudes are absolutely wasted and losing themselves in the songs. Let me be clear that I am 100% sober in all of this, so it’s making all of this so much funnier. At one point, they’ve got their hands on each other’s shoulders, head-banging in sync. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and all of a sudden, I am incorporated into the brotherhood.
I should also point out that I have now been touched by two separate strangers while at this concert. That’s a lifetime high score. I’m not even sure how to feel about it.
I’d be remiss to fail to mention that somewhere behind us, a group of middle-aged women had been absolutely screaming “SHOW US YOUR T***S!” between every. single. song. during. every. single. set.
No one asked.
No one obliged.
They persisted.
Until, that is, Noah finally screamed it back at them.
They got offended.
They stopped.
Observations complete.
Field journal closed.
Subjects survived. I think.
You must be logged in to post a comment.