After the 2-Cents band finishes a most glorious finale, Dave and I go outside for fresh smoke-filled air. Upon our re-entrance through a side door that allowed the pleasure of smoke without the displeasure of clearing security again, we pass the lead singer of 2-Cents. He shakes our hands, compliments us for our Misfits shirts. At which point, I thought, “You’re welcome Dave,” as he had borrowed one from my collection aplenty.
Dave would point out my most splendid “Die, Die, Die My Darling” leg tattoo to our new friend. However, as frontmen are known to do, he quickly lost interest in our trivial coolness, instead seemingly turning his attention to “scoring” chicks. Always the realists, we wished the bro well in his endeavor, and turn our attention toward making jokes while awaiting the next band, “Devildriver.” Devildriver awaits!
Not All Who Wander are Lost
Shortly before the “Demon chauffers” were set to begin, Dave made a splendid quip about how the “tallest guys at the show always end up standing in front” of him. Quickly, Dave’s repartee shifted into reality, for as Devildriver begins–the only eight-foot tall guy in the place manages to magically appear and obstruct Dave’s pathway.
This man-giant would only be a short disturbance, soon we found ourselves pulled into “the pit.” Great, a prompt observation suggests, “This crowd is loaded with assholes.” For example, there was ‘some’ dude that kept spilling beer on me. “Thou shall not waste such fine beer on my legs, sir. I so wish to drink a beer or 12,” I thought to myself before breaking away from such a cruel irony brought on by a non-aware dickhead.
Everywhere in the crowd, wildness, assholishness, and douchebaggery-a-plenty was evident. In one direction, we see ‘some’ crazy chick getting her mad dance on as she pushes her way through the crowd. I imagine her saying, “Get the fuck out of my way, as I clearly belong closer to the stage than thy….for some reason…because in spite of my piss-poor time management skills…I’m still better than you.”
Ultimately, the she-bitch meets her match as she would bump into a really short but not a true midget couple. The dude from the pushed pair, immediately flexed his short fuse, as he promptly shows no fear in standing up to the she-bitch. The little fellars short fuse hastily to a cocked fist. Once again, a man of small statue shows no fear as he threatens to hit such a bitchy woman. Oh my! Such a tragedy one might think, but all I could muster was thinking to myself, “Self, that sh*t is too funny.” Much ado about nothing–as literally nothing substantive resulted from this encounter. Not even as I write this, the story still lacks any substance, it only is–as it was.
Soon after, while still in the pit, my attention was captured by an Indian looking dude with tattoos (that cover his entire face) would find himself engaged in a pushing contest with one of the many nameless ‘pit dicks.’ Unlike the previous nothingness, this encounter may have gone somewhere. Maybe someone ended up beaten or dead? Beats me, since I’m easily distracted. The end of this short tale shall dwell as an endless uncertainty within my rambling brain.
As for Devildriver the reviews were mixed, Dave liked ’em, I was “meh.” However, my review is only due to them standing in the way of the one, the only, the man-god known as Danzig. In the circles of this dude’s existence, it is acceptable to refer to the said legend of a man as MANZIG.
After too many years of life, the time would finally arrive.