“Hey, Asshole!”: Cookie Mountain Gets A Little Bit Crowded

noah | March 8, 2007 11:56 am
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From time to time, we like to give our readers the floor for “Hey, Asshole!”, which documents concert-going experiences that are ruined by the other people in attendance. If you feel like getting revenge on someone who put a damper on your show-going expierence, send your stories or cameraphone shots to asshole@idolator.com. Today’s submission comes from Idolator reader David Hogue, whose view of TV On The Radio last night was obstructed by a big guy with a shaved head and his late-arriving friends:

I wanted to give a “Hey Asshole!” shout-out to the mook with the shaved head who nearly picked a fight with me at this evening’s TV on the Radio show in Columbus, Ohio.

I was enjoying the show from my spot about a foot behind the railing around the back of the sound board. About 4 songs in, said mook, his mook friend with a Color Me Badd/JT Dick in a Box beard, and a random short girl wedge their way in front of myself and a female friend who is also right behind the railing. Female friend gets beer spilled on her, and bearded guy apologizes for his friends parking their sorry asses about 4 inches in front of us.

At this point, I am unhappy, but decide to take it easy. Five minutes later, bald mook starts slowly backing up into me trying to gain more space for himself. His back is now pressed against my forearm and beer that I’m holding in front of my chest. I choose not to step out of his way, so he starts flicking me glances over his shoulder. Einstein then decides confrontation is the answer, telling me to back off because I’m crowding him. I calmly respond that I had been there for the entire show, and he was the one that chose to squeeze in front of me. He says I should have claimed my space, and I say he’s a dick.

His ranting causes me to miss half of a Bowie-less “Province.”

Now, I can see the cogs working in his shiny, bald skull as he tries to figure out how he can get me to move. He then turns all the way around to stare me down for a full minute (which doesn’t seem like a long time, but holy hell, it felt like an eternity), saying I’m making him “uncomfortable” because he has no room. I told him that was his own fault. Fire lights up in his drunken, dopey eyes, and for about 30 seconds, I’m approximately 92% sure that I’m going to get punched in the face.

“Wolf Like Me” is now ruined.

Finally he turns back around, then leaves a minute later. My wife tries to throw her chewing gum at him.

Hogue doesn’t tell us whether or not his wife hit his target, but he does add a postscript in which everyone (almost) gets along:

Epilogue: Bearded guy is wasted and tries to be my friend, bald douche cuts back in for the encore, and I walk out at the end of the night still expecting to get bashed in the back of the head.

I was trying to figure out where I could throw in an “I was a lover before this war” joke, but sadly it just didn’t work.

Earlier: “Hey, Asshole!” archives