The three of us girls were dolled up as goth would allow. With fishnets and heavy eyeliner, we were ready for Mr. Manson. The long car ride there was menacing in patience, and as in much of a hurry to get there as we were, we found ourselves delayed yet again, this time in a line outside. Then the line began moving.
Once inside I took notice of the largely dark atmosphere of a bar. There were several bars however, and they were all nicely spread around the area in front of the stage and floor. I grabbed a beer and joined my friends on the floor in front of the stage. It was the first drink I’ve had at a concert; legally anyway.
We were fighting to keep our positions near the front of the stage. I had been waiting since the age of fourteen to see him in concert and had bought tickets for my sixteenth birthday only to have the show cancelled. But here I was, and I was going to have the best damn time possible.
After the opening act, The Pretty Reckless, I really began to notice how many people had come to the floor. I was surrounded, and completely aware of my short height. Then the main performance emerged, I only knew this because the feeling of claustrophobia became unbearable as I was pinned between other bodies.
I tried to remain excited, and support the band coming out. Then the guys came. These jerks just pushed their way to the front, taking our places. They were tall, okay fine, but shirtless? I was now forced upon having my left check pressed against this guy’s sweaty back; gross. The crowd was getting so intense, and I was so entirely pinned. I remember thinking that having my neck cranked so hard upon this guy’s sweaty back very well could snap it and I would die.
It crept through the sweat and shouts; it was time to gear into survival mode.
I began pounding on this guy’s back with all my rage but it only barely surprised him; which wasn’t a surprise at all to me seeing the mass and build of him. I screamed as loud as I could. “Get me out of here!” I figured he could do as much considering he so rudely took my place and placed his sweaty back upon my cheek.
Lifts and pulls began all over my body to get me out. Out of the sea of people I could actually breath, I didn’t realize how suffocated I was. While I was still in the air I nearly lost my right shoe. I was focused on balancing the top of my foot so I didn’t lose my shoe until I was fully out. But then from the left side of my face, my glasses daintily came off.
I was placed on my feet thinking I would be relieved but instead I was confused; my glasses don’t just come off like that, what the hell? Security began yelling at me to go out from the front of the stage, and I was trying to yell back for them to hear I didn’t have my glasses.
I was beginning to move back out of fear that I could get in trouble, then I saw the slight shadow of the neon yellow or green shirts security was wearing. One closest to stage moved to another, he reached me and handed me back my glasses.
“Did Manson just have my glasses!?”I asked.
“I think so!” he said.
The security guard confirmed it for me, I would never have known otherwise, being blind and all. I ran to tell my girlfriends and Shannon told me that he was putting on other peoples’ glasses but she didn’t see him with mine, it was crazy in the crowd. I strongly believe it’s more than possible Manson took a glimpse into my world for a moment.
The rest of the night progressed as I watched safely from the outskirts of the chaos. I was both bubbly and disappointed that I had come that close to Marilyn Manson. I might have at least tried to look at him or something, forget the shoe.