the women who told me to leave the pit
It was my first metal show. It wasn't really a metal show. It was a hardcore wrestling show with a metal band playing at the intermission. I was 2 beers in, with another held in my hand. At the time, I didn't listen to much metal. I was a frequent at local punk shows, but I liked a softer kind of anger. I preferred the anger you hold in your heart, not the fury you ball in your hands.
My friends had left just as the band started, blown away by the noise and intensity of it. But it hit me in a place I needed hit. I plugged in my ear plugs, nodded my head, and balled my fists.
She was smaller than me, by a wide margin. I think she noticed I didn't fit in straight away. I don't know why. Maybe there is a naivety I still exude that I can't control. But she tapped me on the shoulder at the start of the second song. "They're going to start fighting," she said. She must have seen my shock, because she quickly elaborated, looking up at me. "We're all going to shove each other, and your beer is full," she said, motioning for me to step towards the back of the room. When I looked up from her, a few larger men were, in fact, shoving each other, smiles reaching their eyes, as she dove into the fray.
I stepped back a few paces and drank a few sips of the top of my drink, continuing to nod along to the shrieking man before me, but eyes glued on the joyous battle playing out before me.