Someone Save Me

Oh, dear lord. Tonight I’m going to my very first metal show–and I’m not talking about metal like Pantera or songs about a Sandman entering night or whatever. This is a genre of music that I wouldn’t even refer to as real music, because there’s no melody or discernible lyrics. I’m not prone to psychological symptoms like anxiety attacks or hyperventilating, but Converge is one of those bands that I feel straight up uncomfortable whenever I heard their songs. I can’t even watch this music video for longer than 3 seconds. It’s that awful.

So why am I going? I bought the tickets for B as a birthday present but stupidly put them on will-call under my name, which means that I have to be present (with ID) to pick them up…which means that I have to go. I did try to tell him that I’d be happy to meet him at the theater to get the tickets and wish him a good night so I could go home and enjoy the penultimate episode of Lost but nope, he demanded that I accompany him and I will probably not make it out alive. Or with good hearing.

With a line-up of bands called Lewd Acts, Black Breath and Coalesce, he’s going to owe me HUGE. I’m thinking back to back screenings of Babies, Love Actually and Sex and the City 2.