Concert going theives
I recently saw a show in Richmond VA that I will never forget. Good music and good shows are common in our city, but unfortunately so is theft.
I got to the show a little late. Dumb Waiter had already performed; I was just in time to see Hex Machine, very high energy and absolutely unique guitar sounds. I was hanging in the front with a new friend Randy, who is a freelance photographer who I am Instagram buddies with. I was glad Randy was there, not just for him to take his unique brand of photos, but to have someone to chat with. We remained in front when headliners Zombi took the stage.
Randy was enjoying the show but was also busy taking photos, and I was busy being engrossed by the band. A very drunk, overly friendly guy joined Randy and myself up front - another lone show goer- and we readily adopted him into a trio. He was super drunk and really feeling himself. He asked Randy to take some pictures of he and I, arm in arm, enjoying the show, which I half heartedly participated in; it was a little embarrassing posing for pictures right in front of the stage, in front of the whole crowd, while the band played... RIGHT!?? I allowed two pics but then disengaged so I could watch and enjoy the band.
After I disengaged, and Randy continued working, the drunk fellow's vibe changed. Not dramatically, but he was no longer excited and happy. His facial expression turned dour, and he began hovering with one hand on the stage, bent over. He had all of my attention at this point. I thought he was going to throw up; instead he grabbed Randy's photography bag and tried to hustle out the loading door.
Randy was taking a photo, completely unaware. My instincts were sound. I quickly rushed forward, grabbed the guy and forced him back in, and yelled over to Randy, who joined me in this struggle. All three of us had our hands on the bag, and all three of us would not let go. Eventually Randy got the leverage, but then fell over backwards with the bag, in front of the entire crowd, and band. Everyone was watching, but no one was making any moves to help.
With Randy on the floor, clutching his bag, the situation was more or less over at this point. I turned to the guy, adrenaline sky-high, and shoved him as hard as I could against a brick wall. He seemed completely dazed. I was trying to force him into a sitting position when a bouncer finally came over and took him away.
I watched the next few songs by myself, trying to get back into the music, but my attention was internal. I was proud of myself for my quick action, but after this huge transgression, it was next to impossible to disengage and get back into the show. I sought Randy out to make sure he was okay; he was obviously pissed about the situation and was sitting out the remainder of the show, but was more or less nonchalant appearing about the whole thing. As well as the bouncer. Seemed like just another day to them, but for me, my heart was pounding and my emotions were all over the place. I finished watching the show way off to the side, and left as the last note resonated.
Unfortunately I also experienced, and am still experiencing, very ego-driven persistent thoughts. Did anyone even see this happen? My other acquaintances who were there, the band themselves who watched the entire incident right in front of them? There was zero acknowledgment of the situation. And I learned something about myself, which is, I undeniably expected praise for my actions, deserved or not. Because this attempted theft and my personal treatment of the guy afterwards was so high energy, to have no closure or come-down. Just felt emptiness.
That night and the next day I was proud of myself for my actions, but now that some more time has passed, the situation has had a much more negative impact on me than anything else. A slight loss of faith in humanity- the guy was just sent off stumbling into the night, no arrest and no charges, probably to steal again. The club had left that loading door open, unguarded- how secure would I feel doing a show at this establishment, with my cherished music equipment ready to be stolen? A slight loss in faith of my fellow concert goers, who were standing within arms reach of us but just continued to stand and watch.
But most importantly, a slight loss of faith in myself- why do I expect any praise for my actions? Why can't my good actions be enough on their own? I absolutely abhor people who lavish praise on themselves, expecting others to follow suit. Even writing all this down and publishing it seems like a cry for praise. I guess in a way it can be construed as such, but it's more for hoping that you can relate with my twisted feelings here about the situation, and to be wary of your belongings in public. It's true I'm prone to depression, anxiety, and overthinking things; I've done my lion's share of overthinking this exact situation, feeling anxious about it, and then eventually feeling depressed about it. I'm hoping writing all this can help prevent more concert thefts, but I more strongly hope to put the whole situation behind me now. I'm nowhere near being a perfect person, and this week has been just another testament to that.