Quietly Hostile

by Samantha Irby

It was my first-ever everyone-in-attendance-is-at-least-thirty-nine-years-old concert, and can I say I never want to see a young-people show again? Dude started right on time at 7:00 p.m. and played for two and a half solid hours and then everyone quietly filed out to their minivans in an orderly fashion. I mean, it might’ve still been light out. That is the ideal concertgoing experience! I wore soft pants with an elastic waistband and an official DMB sweatshirt I ordered from the merch website, and I didn’t feel underdressed or out of place for even a minute. Your dad drank three twenty-seven-dollar lite beers and danced to “What Would You Say” with every ounce of energy in his body, his L.L.Bean fleece jumping and gyrating as if it had a life of its own, and I sat behind him with tears in my eyes, overwhelmed to be at a show with hundreds of people who were likely on the same arthritis medication I am.