documentation of my neuroses, eccentricities, imperfections, lame puns & other rad bullshit

CATEGORIZING PEOPLE BEEECH

CATEGORIZING PEOPLE BEEECH

Last September, I wrote about .2% of this blog post, forgot about it, & it disappeared into my drafts. However, recently I had one of those Nicholas Cage  moments when I discovered this treasure (didn’t even have to steal the Declaration of Independence) & thought “hmmm maybe I should get off my lazy ass & finish it”. So I did.

Okay, basically what I did here is categorize the groovy humans at raves because.. um well.. I don’t really have a reason..which is more of a reason not to read the rest of this blog post. But hey! It’s 2018! Spread some love by at least skimming???

Soooo, um yeah, I guess these are a few of the types of people you melt next to at raves:
  1. The Rave Fam: These people are the raddest folks you will ever meet.
  2. The Head Banging Hooligans: The people who happily form a heart-warming circle to all head-bang in & allow everyone, friendos or strangers, to join in on the action. The people who are willing to deal with chronic neck pain. The people who grab hold of the railing and let the music do the rest. They also complain the next day for not remembering the set.
  3. The High School Mates You Forgot Existed: The scariest thing about raves is seeing people you knew from high school. You awkwardly make eye contact, have a double-take, sometimes projectile vomit, & give each other the look. I honestly adore the weird expressions they give me for being there. “Like who would have thought that girl who sat in front of me in AP Language Arts would someday be wearing pasties, glitter, and be dancing like an absolute fool?” Well, lemme tell yuh, beeps, barks, & boops can change a person.
  4. Mom & Dad: Your second parents. The ones who remind you to drink your H2O..basically breast feeding you with their hydropack. The one who gives you the much needed back massage, chills with you on the cold floor, holds your hair back when you vomit, & whips out the vicks & shoves it up your nose. Mom & Dad, you know who you are. You rage with us, but still manage to keep all of your children in check. I’d just like to take a moment to thank you for saving my life on numerous occasions & for always coming in clutch. (especially @ emerald)
  5. The Handsy Squirmy Wierdos: The people who stand uncomfortably next to you & casually rub their sweaty self against your left leg, so you scoot to the side, yet they still somehow keep swiping you BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE SENDING THEM PISSED OFF LOOKS & CONTINUE TO STEP AWAY, THEY STILL INTERPRET THAT AS YOU BEING INTERESTED IN THEM. Like yo. Dude. Give my left leg some breathing room. Let me thrust my body to the music in peace. Jeez. Is that too much to ask? This type of person LITERALLY makes me want to scream.. I swear you turn around & suddenly there’s like 7024913 more of these weirdos lookin’ like a human centipede grind line that you see at hormone imbalanced middle school dances. Gross. *bashes head against wall*
  6. The Starers: There’s always that one person, maybe a stranger or maybe a friend, who you somehow make eye contact with every 30 seconds regardless of where they are in the crowd. And then you just stare. And stare. And stare a little more. And then stare a lot of more.
  7. The PLUR Cult: PLUR is an amazing thing, don’t get me wrong here. I love the whole concept & think it is super duper hilarious to make kandi that says “I need to poopy help me” Yes, I did make this once & accidentally gave it to a coworker.. ha. Yeahhh..regrets.. ha..haa.. ha. But, however, even so, everything has an extreme. & those EXTREME PLUR people can be a bit much to take in. It’s really hard to describe them, but if you go to a rave/ festival, you’ll know who I am talking about because you’ll instantly get anxiety when in close proximity.
  8. The Overdosed On Emotions Kiddos: The people who won’t stop smiling, hug you in 10 second intervals, take photos of you, cry over “HOW BEAUTIFUL YOUR GLITTER IS”, & stand there observing the crowd with their hand covering their heart & mouth.
  9. The Lost Puppies: The pals that you can’t lose sight of for more than 2 minutes or they’ll wander off. You then have to search for them in the lost & found aka the area right behind the main crowd where there’s like a huge pit of lost puppies roaming in circles as if they’re being herded. Innocently looking around. Big eyes. Maybe a scared expression. All they had to do was use the potty, but ended up becoming a stray. *”In the arms of the angels…” can be heard in the background*
  10. The Folks You Will Never See Again: The posers. The fake fans. Name 52.4 albums or you aren’t a REAL fan. What’s the DJ’s mother’s maiden name? Don’t know. FAKE. That’s you. Faker. These people are seen at one rave. Never again. Why? It just seemed like the trendy thing to do. Furthermore, catch ’em there for Steve Aoki, Martin Garrix, and DJ Khaled. Catch ’em hyperventilating when they can’t find an aesthetically-pleasing wall to take a hand at hip picture that would soooo fit perfectly next to that duck face selfie on their Instagram! Catch ’em upset when they realize concert lighting is straight shit & will not accentuate your make-up, but instead make you appear to be on drugs.
  11. I originally had 16, but to make life simpler, I narrowed it down to 10, but 10 is waaayyy too predictable, thus I re-added one to make it 11. Hipster. The Hype: These people are stellar. Their presence elevates the experience by a million percent. They are constantly moving, dancing, vibing, jumping, etc. They are the woot woot. The people who race towards the mosh pit. The people who can get from the back of the crowd to the front rail with “the hype walk tactic” (I swear it is possible to hype your way through sardines & yes, I did come up with that name & yes, I realize that’s a very clever name). The hypers are the reason you walk out the gates at the end of the night grinning & fist bumping. Woot woot.

We all know these people.

Until next time -4 viewers.

Thanks & have a good night,

Ri Bread

I’ll be here ’til Thursday.

Woot.



4 thoughts on “CATEGORIZING PEOPLE BEEECH”

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