Last night I went to see one of my favourite bands, Tunng, at Koko in Camden.
I’ve not been to see a band for what feels like ages and I’d bought Claire these tickets to see them as a valentines day gift (even if really I like them more than she does and so I’ve really bought myself a present… but I still brought her along).
Anyhow, the gig was lovely, they were collaborating with a band called Tinariwen which for the most part worked excellently (though I have to be honest, there were a couple of times when I was waiting for the next Tunng song to come along.
anyhow, I enjoyed the gig a lot, right up until the last song. Like any fan of any band I had a little mental checklist of songs I hoped they’d play. By the end all but on of these songs were checked off aside from Bullets from the latest album.
Halfway through the blissful song the woman standing in front of me and claire suddenly turned round, trying to move claire’s bag.
This was a little odd, seemingly the woman had been annoyed that the bag was touching her.
The woman had been annoying me, having had my arms around claire (cos we are in love, so ner to you) the woman had kept rubbing her back against my hand which was grossing me out a little as she was not the most attractive of women I’ve ever had rubber against my fingers.
So, the jist of her argument was that in a very crowded room (as gigs tend to be thus) someone was standing near her, and this had been annoying her so much that she left it until my favourite song to say something, instead of just moving.
Claire dealt with it correctly and just ignored her, but the woman’s smug face triggered my rage.
It was the same rage that I reserve only for bus drivers and people who work at train stations. That smug look set me off.
It wasn’t dignified, I just started shouting, “you’re at a gig, what do you expect?” I think I may have even started pointing at her.
I never point.
The probably-a-bus-driver-or-station-employee upped her smugness factor sensing a victory and claire was telling me to leave it, just try and enjoy the song.
What song? My rage meant I couldn’t even see the stage. I wanted to belittle this stupid cunt, but I was so angry there was no way I was going to win this row. Claire trying to stifle me just made me more angry as I realised we were, to all the people around us, living out the fantasy of being in brookside, she should have been in a fluffy dressing gown in slippers and me with tattoos and milk as she screams “Leave him Terry he’s not worth it” in scouse.
I let it go, hoping that post gig I could calmly tell smug woman what a total cunt she really was, how dare she be annoyed by something annoying?
But we slipped out during the last encore song to beat the rush (oh yes, we might be in love, but we are also practical). On the way someone tried to barge past me, I held my ground and shouldered him in the chest, he looked pissed off, but I knew that this meant I’d won at least one tiny battle of the night and somewhere in the crowd that smug woman was hurting, she’d made me stop a man barging past me.
I hope she’s happy.