Date Night from Hell: The Mosh pit

I came home after a long day at work and my husband was sitting in the backyard with a big shitty grin on his face. My husband said, “I have a surprise for you. We are going on a date.” I thought to myself how exciting since we hardly ever go on any dates. Then he said, “we are going to a metal concert.” I thought to myself how selfish, I don’t even like that kind of music, but since I have not been on a date in a long time, I tried to seem excited and reluctantly agreed to go.

Date night had finally arrived. It was summertime in the middle of July. We were at the concert and somehow my husband convinced me that we needed to be right up front.

The crowd was getting rowdy. We were squished together like sardines. I had strangers’ sweaty bodies leaving their DNA all over me. I could barely move. The crowd surfers would come from behind and I lost count of how many times I got kicked in the back of my head. My head was pounding. My hair was caught in between the sweaty bodies of the people behind me turning it into a rat’s nest. The air was dusty and I wanted to choke. The crowd kept pushing each other around. I almost got trampled over. At that point, the singer in the band said: “I want everyone to make the biggest mosh pit I have ever seen.” I was in panic mode. I wanted out, but I was trapped. Fear traveled through my body. I wanted to puke. Finally, the concert ended, but the horror of that night lingered on.

As I walked back to the car I tried to hold myself together. As soon as I got into the car I burst into tears; my back hurt, my stomach ached, my head throbbed and my hair was mangled. We still had a two-hour drive ahead of us to get back home. I did not even want to speak to my husband. All I could think was what kind of husband takes his wife into a mosh pit. I thought to myself he must hate me or he has a really good life insurance policy on me. I was livid. It was definitely the worst date ever. That was the longest drive home.

We finally arrived home, but the night was still not over for me. I could not just go to bed as I needed a shower. My hair was so matted up that it took me an hour just to comb through it. By then it was 1:00 am. I was so exhausted that the temptation of cutting off all my hair had crossed my mind. All I wanted to do was go to bed. As for my husband he had already drifted into a deep sleep, oblivious to the anguish I was suffering.

Looking back on that insane night, I still cannot believe that I allowed my husband to talk me into going to that concert. Although, I have to admit that even though it was the worst date ever, not everyone can say that they survived the date night from hell.


Author: Forever Serene

I write about life, poems, narcissists and trying new things. Currently, I am taking a break from blogging. I am busy trying new things and living my life.

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