Last night, I attended a concert I’ve been looking forward to for a while. I got the tickets for my boyfriend’s birthday in September, and I’ve had the days booked off work for a few weeks.
This was my first standing-room-only concert at a small downtown bar in ages, and my very first 19+ one. In high school, you couldn’t keep me away from these places, but somehow, for some reason, I just stopped going. The only concerts I’ve attended in the last few years have been in seated, big, corporate venues that sell $20 beers. It was supposed to be kind of a “yeah I’m still awesome and I go out and stuff” kind of thing.
I was super-excited to post an awesome post about the band and include pictures and whatnot…
Things never go as planned, do they? First of all, for some reason, I didn’t take many pictures. I think I took two…on my iPhone.
I began the night thinking everything was going swimmingly. Instead of doing the whole high school thing where you line up at noon so you can stand at the front (and get your ribs crushed) just so you can be slightly closer to the lead singer, we left late. We got there as soon as the opening band started. Pretty good timing. I bought us both beers (this being an extension of the aforementioned birthday present, of course!) and we found a spot pretty close to the front.
As the night went on, we successfully fought back against the rage-inducing idiot girls with no spatial awareness, drunk middle-aged women who were too short to actually see (and insisted on bouncing around, trying to find a good spot), and the people who insist on getting pushing their way through the packed crowd to get them and their 9 friends beers every 20 minutes.
When the main band hit the stage, I had kind of started to go downhill. It was hot, stuffy, and those dumbass girls were beginning to get to me. Come to think of it, the last thing I’d eaten was hours ago…I hadn’t had anything to drink except for the beer…
And then I had to get out. That telltale ringing in my ears was starting. I pushed my way through disgruntled concert-watchers during a lull in the playing, and managed to make it to the washroom. I don’t know why I always run to the washroom, but aside from the concrete stoop outside and the floor, there was no where else to sit. I barely made it, thank god there wasn’t a line. It was one of those old-fashioned washrooms with lids on the toilet seat, thank god, so voila, instant fainting chair.
It was my blood sugar, again. I know these symptoms so well. Unfortunately, this happened in one of the worst locations. I was alone…in a disgusting stall in a dirty, stuffy club, trying not to pass out. I couldn’t get any water or anything to eat, nor could I lay on the cool floor. The last two times this happened when I wasn’t at home, I fainted. Both times were in labs in high school and university, the second time was thankfully on a hospital bed in the nursing lab. (I really couldn’t have chosen a better major for being prone to this).
I heard my favourite song of the band muffled through the walls while I was trying to stay conscious in the bathroom. After a few minutes, the question was: could I I get up or not? How horrible would it be to faint in the bathroom at a concert? Would people steal my stuff? How long would I be out before someone would get security? How would they find my boyfriend? Oh god, what if I land in a puddle of this unknown liquid on the ground?
I managed to get it together, get my coat on, and walk up the street to the pizza place.
The best part of the night was definitely getting in a fight afterwards about why I left the concert entirely. I don’t know, see above?
I have learned a few things: Never overestimate your seemingly young and healthy body. It will screw you over at the worst of times.
Never assume your loving friends and family will understand what it feels like to have a low blood sugar attack in a place like this. Clearly, that’s an overestimation.
Always sneak in lifesavers in your purse.
You are old now, don’t try anymore.
Disappointment is something I’m getting used to.
Anyway, here’s that picture: