As you step out of the club for a break from the pulsating blasts of EBM/Aggrotech/Neo-Folk Swingcore, you notice a girl smoking alone. She sees you glance at her tattooed arm and strikes up a conversation by complimenting yours. You thank her and start to criticize it as if you were your father and the bad tattoo on your arm represents every single one of your life choices, but before you can even get out the word "shading," she pulls up her sleeve and starts talking over you. OK, then. That's fine though, because you weren't really sure how you were going to end your sentence. After 10 years, you still haven't come up with anything you care enough about with which to cover said tattoo.
She tells you that she got her first tattoo when she was 18, and she’s been adding more and more ever since. She explains that each tattoo has a special meaning for her. The rose on her wrist is for her grandmother, who was always telling her to “stop and smell the roses.” The anchor on her bicep is for her grandfather, who was a sailor "in the marines." And the bird on her shoulder is for her best friend, who died tragically two years ago. Uh huh. Also the skulls represent something asinine, the pot leaf is self explanatory, and she just really likes Rick and Morty.
Every time you think she won't possibly lift her shirt any higher, she does. Why is this happening?
As she continues droning on and on, you can’t help but wonder if she's on drugs or just like this. Because if she has drugs, you might be willing to keep nodding along to this for a bit longer. Not too long though, or you run the risk of missing the headliner and ending up in a 6 year relationship you're ambivalent about with no idea how you let it get that far.
Suddenly, the door swings open, bringing a moment of intelligibility to the dull thumping that has up to this point been the soundtrack to your new hell. You're 80% sure it's the bassist of the opening band. They were just OK, but you needlessly overstate your appreciation for their set. Why do you always do that? Oh, thank God it is him; that would have been awkward.
"Thanks, this is actually our first show in a couple years," he says.
Now he's telling you about every single band they've ever opened for and trying to recall the exact dates and names of the tours. Awesome. Quick, pretend to get a phone call.
"Sorry, I've gotta take this," you say as you walk back into the loud venue, which makes absolutely no sense at all.
