Tagged: bar

The true story of the time I wore a floral miniskirt to a metal concert.

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I was going to a punk rock / garage rock / metal show with Captain Apollo.

Well, I did.

My life. 

Captain Apollo is in a band that plays original punk rock slash garage rock slash rock slash I-don’t-know-what-the-techinical-term-is. Basically, they can be put into a show with a fairly large range of different bands.

The show was in a town about 40 minutes away from us, and the bar was ten minutes outside of that. Basically in a cornfield across from that creepy gas station where people in movies get murdered a lot. You know the one.

We actually passed by it assuming it was a strip club. I can’t even make that up.

Needless to say, the joint was not, upon first glance, somewhere I would frequent. Luckily, I was with a crew of manly men from my hometown, three of whom were wearing leather jackets, so I felt safe enough within a three or four foot radius of any of them. There were definitely some characters in that bar whom I would not have ordinarily wanted within a three or four mile radius of me, but that’s neither here nor there.

And yes, of course I pick this occasion to wear a floral mini skirt and spangly sandals. The girl who wore sweatpants to a fraternity formal once. WHY.

I’m just gonna go for the gusto and tell you that the first band that played was named for two different bodily functions.




Nope. Bloodsnot, actually. An instrumental death metal band named Bloodsnot. Which probably gives you a pretty decent idea of I thought how my night was going to go.

Needless to say, I wouldn’t consider myself a death metal type of person. The “hardest” person I think I listen to on a regular basis is probably Avril Lavigne.

At any rate, Bloodsnot (BloodSnot? Blood Snot? bLoOdSnOt?) starts playing, and almost immediately three or four guys start “dancing”.

I think you could technically consider it dancing, in that they were moving and music happened to be playing. To me, it mostly looked like a group of zombies having a collective seizure.

It basically looked like this:

But in a smaller space and everyone was wearing cutoff teeshirts. EVERYONE.

You can probably imagine by this point I was two Blues down the hatch and had backed myself into a corner with Captain Apollo and the second scariest-looking townie we brought (although, objectively speaking, what’s scarier – a bleached mohawk or a half-dreads, half-shaved head combo?)

However, I have to say, once beer number three kicked in, (oh yes, it was that kind of a night) I sort of enjoyed Bloodsnot’s music. I know this because I apparently (very drunkenly) later told their guitarist that I enjoyed their performance as much as possible without ever wanting to listen to it again.

This is probably why I shouldn’t talk to people. Or go out into public places.

When Apollo’s band went on stage, I switched to whiskey gingers, ended up on the dance floor, and got into trouble with the stage manager for starting a mosh pit. Yes, the tiny half-asian girl started a mosh (well, shoving match, really). Hilariously, the Mohawk Guy got the telling off, but I totally shoved him first. It was very metal. In fact, I was definitely  starting to feel pretty metal at this point, you guys. Never mind the fact that Mohawk guy is actually very nice. I felt like shoving somebody. MUAHAHA.

During whiskey ginger number two, a band full of 30-something men wearing wallet chains screamed into microphones and rolled around on the floor while their bassist, who was inexplicably dressed like a pirate-slash-douchebag, roamed around the bar playing next to unassuming patrons. At one point the guitarist accidentally kicked over his mic stand onto the lead singer, who was still lying on the ground.

It was super metal.

I totally danced by myself in the middle of the room while my friends pretended not to know me.


The last band marked whisky ginger number three. I vaguely remember that the lead singer was dressed like a total nerd. Or was one. Either. He did not look very metal, at any rate, and a bunch of girls showed up and started dancing, and that was even less metal.

I think that’s about when I started talking to Bloodsnot about how I really enjoyed their set as much as possible without enjoying it at all, and Captain Apollo decided it was probably time for us to go home.

Except when we did get home, Varenka had accidentally locked me out.





I recently went down to a bar in town and had a nerd off with some of my friends. We sat at the bar asking each other nerd culture questions and if you answered the question wrong, you had to drink. I should note that I was playing this with two of my friends while the rest of our group were trying very hard to not be associated with us. I should also note that I went out earlier that night for my mom’s birthday and we did sake bombs and the entire staff made fun of me for my inability to chug a sake bomb while my mother flawlessly downed three of them. I offer this anecdote so you get an idea of how bad I am at social drinking interactions.

Any who, the nerd-off questions ran the gamut from “what is the difference between a Slytheen and a Silurian” and “what is xyz in binary” and “verbally code a page in HTML using the following parameters”. All was well and good and socially embarrassing until we got into the quintessential argument of what constitutes nerdiness.

Oh god. I hate this question. It’s as bad as the “what is art?” question you have to answer in every art course ever. It’s a rhetorical question. Bugger off.

I like to think of geekdom and nerddom as two closely related types of phenomenon that should be considered together. In both cultures, the defining characteristic is an unusual level of obsession about something. Generally, geeks are obsessed about things that are not “useful” or likely to make them money or get them a mainstream job – T.V. shows, movies, and video games, for example. Nerds are obsessed about things you could consider more “useful” or intellectual- books, computers, programming, science, and so on. Obviously, there’s a lot of crossover between the two.

Honestly, though, shouldn’t we nerds be supporting each other’s nerdiness rather than competing about it? I hate it when people think you aren’t obsessed enough or nerdy enough because you haven’t seen XYZ show or read XYZ book. Honestly, pipe down. Maybe I haven’t yet but I will. What makes you the defining authority on that subject anyways? Your poorly done fandom tattoo? Your immense collection of overpriced memorabilia? Because it sure as hell isn’t your piss poor attitude, sport. 

We nerds need to band together to support each other in our fandoms and obsessions, not gripe about people who aren’t nerdy enough or belittle others for not liking to same nerdy things. If you’re thinking that there’s a must-read checklist of nerddom, shut your face right now. If you say you’re a nerd, you’re a nerd, regardless if you specialize in ancient pottery types or Glee episodes. Sorted.