Bonded By Blood

(I’m at a metal/hardcore show in a tiny venue. I’ve been stuck against the edge of the mosh pit, which hasn’t bothered me much, but the pit has been getting more and more rowdy despite the bands’ requests to calm down a little before someone gets hurt. Sure enough, during the final set someone slips and falls in the pit nearby me. I bend down to help him up before he gets trampled, and wind up taking a fist point-blank, full-force to the face instead.)

Me: “Mother-f*****!”

(I grab at my nose in pain and am dismayed to feel my nose creak and to see blood gushing out down my face and all over my hands. It’s broken. Still dazed from the punch, I somehow manage to squeeze out of the pit and through the rest of the crowd. I have to pass by the bands’ merch (merchandise) tables to get outside, which I’m trying to do before I bleed all over the floor and my clothes.)

Merch Guy #1: “Whoa! That looks painful! Here, take this!” *he hands me a water bottle*

Me: “What? Oh! Thanks!”

(I manage to get outside only to find a guy, similarly-dressed, lingering by the door with blood gushing from his nose as well.)

Attendee: “You too, huh?!”

Me: “And right after [Band] told us to calm down!”

(We laugh at our mutual bad luck and share the water bottle to try and wash some of the blood off. Another merch guy pokes his head out.)

Merch Guy #2: “Hey — you guys okay? Can I get you anything?”

Me: “A paper towel or some tissue would be nice; blood doesn’t wash off as well as I’d think.”

Merch Guy #2: “I’ll see what I can do!”

(He disappears for long enough that I figure he’s forgotten about it, when suddenly he returns with two dishcloths.)

Merch Guy #2: “This was the best I could do. Just keep them.”

Attendee: “This will be just fine!”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

(Once we’re more or less cleaned up, we slip back into the venue to watch the tail end of the last act.)

Ticket-taker: “Hey, did you pay to get in?”

Me: *I’m still a little dazed from getting knocked in the head* “Huh?”

Ticket-taker: “The price was technically $10 to get in; did you pay earlier?”

(I start to verify that I paid earlier when I’m interrupted.)

Merch Guy #3: “Aw, come on, leave her alone. The girl paid for this show in BLOOD!”

Ticket-taker: *laughing* “That’s fair. Just keep it in mind next show you come to.”

Me: “You got it!”

(It was just small things, but it was nice to have a bunch of total strangers watching out for me during my first serious mosh pit injury. Gotta love the metal crowd!)