My friends and I would go to the ‘Stick a lot for the bands and say to girlfriends, “Naaa, not tonight. I gotta see this band.” Well, my girlfriend at the time, who liked pop music said, “I want to go with you.” We were seeing a band similar to Black Flag, can’t remember the name. Her friend and my friend were dating. Sooo….we said, “ok.” We lived in the dorms and when we went by to pick them up they were dressed up and make-uped like going out for fine dining.
My friend and I looked at each other and said, “Don’t say a thing.”
Long story short they were with us in the pit, and by the time we left it, they looked like they had the shit beat out of them, lol. All sweaty, make up streaming down their faces, hair a sticky wet mess, clothes dirty as hell, beer thrown or spilled on them, down them, in the hair, shoes now look like they’re from good will. Shocked, they about fall down at the table. We were all moshing dancing. Basically, they smelled like a dump truck.
Us guys were like, “Hell yea, this is awesome!”
They said sobbing…”We need to leave.”
Shared by: Patrick Kassebaum
Endpoint live, Tune Inn (1994?) https://www.flickr.com/photos/pixofchangezine/