My friends and I are in an on-again/off-again writing club where the rules are simple. Every two weeks you have to submit three short stories that it took you 20 minutes or less to write. These are the results.

I Guess I’m a Metalhead

I knew I’d like the concert, of course, that’s why I bought a ticket in the first place, but I would never have guess how much I’d enjoy it. I didn’t come dressed in any particular way, just kind of threw on what I had around. When I showed up, I realized I was dressed like almost every other guy there.

The band that was on when I arrived was good, but I wanted to check out the scene, so I wandered around and people watched. More girls than normal were smiling at me, and two chatted me up at the bar when I went to get a drink. At the merchandise table, another girl rolled up next to me and we started talking about which shirts we thought were the best. She parted ways with me by saying, “See you in the pit.”

No you won’t, I thought, I’m way too tired and too old for that.

It was easy to kill time before the band I came to see took the stage. My friends and I found a spot relatively center stage, but far enough back that we weren’t crowded or in danger of getting slammed.

The guitars kicked in, and that was it for me. I gave my cell phone to my friend, and waved goodbye. I wanted to get into the pit. No, I had to.

I moshed in the circle pit for as long as I could, and when I got tired, I’d be right on the edge, banging my head and watching out for people that potentially could come barreling into me. I was enjoying this new role of pit protector. On the border of something borderline dangerous that you could be a part of whenever a song you truly couldn’t resist came on.

I don’t know how long I was up there, but when the band took a break, I ran back for a glass of water. Sweating and gulping down the liquid as fast as I could as they retook the stage, I felt like I was going to pass out, and I was perfectly happy to be exhausted in the back…until the guitars kicked in again.

Once again, I had to be up there. I ran to the front, squeezing my way as close to the stage as I could, yelling the lyrics along with everyone else. A few tunes later, I returned to my pit protector role, and got purposefully bumped by the girl I met at the merch table. As she disappeared into the flow of the mosh, she glanced back at me, made eye contact and nodded knowingly. She seemed to be saying, “I told you so.”

That’s when it hit me. ‘Holy shit,’ I thought. ‘I’m a total metalhead.’