When Push Comes to Shove

When a small girl goes to a rap concert for the first time, (she) gets pushed and shoved. Like, a lot. ​

To give some context, this small girl (aka the tiny narrator of this little excerpt herself) is 5’4. Ok, maybe 5’3. And don’t argue with me on that because I refuse to be any shorter.
Last week, I went to my first rap concert with my even shorter best friend (who may or may not be 5’0), a pit stop of rapper Isaiah Rashad’s “Lil Sunny Tour”.
I have to admit that I’m not exactly a rap fan but really I’m not a huge fan of any particular artist. When it comes to the case in question, Isaiah Rashad is an artist that I can appreciate, even enjoy, but will probably never be able to reference since I can’t actually remember any of his song lyrics, let alone the song titles themselves. No disrespect, I’m like that with most music. So here I am, at the concert of a man I learned the name of maybe three months ago, preparing to wait in the cold for two hours so we can ensure front row positions facing the stage. Which is probably bearable if you’re a guy, or at least a girl whose wise enough to choose comfort, a.k.a warmth, over fashion (which I am neither).

Like I was saying, here I am, shivering in my intentionally ripped skinny jeans and unfortunately light faux leather jacket. Not to mention an incredibly intimidating female security guard who should I have gotten in the way of, probably would have run me over. On the upside I became sort of lethargic after an hour and half of waiting so the last twenty minutes passed pretty quickly before the security guard opened the doors and the crowd all but ran into the front lobby. After that? Close to another two hours of waiting inside, with the benefit of not freezing to death, but not quite finding ourselves front row either, with the guy behind us harassing my friend’s ass with his hand.
Now for the best part. A.k.a “when push comes to shove”.
So Isaiah Rashad eventually comes out and the atmosphere is awesome…

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In fact, I’ve never been in such a stoked crowd before, it’s great.
Everything is fine until the chorus hits and all of a sudden everyone around me starts jumping. An elbow to my right cheek, a shoulder to my left temple. The guy behind me is holding his iPhone just above my head, waving his arm around me as if he doesn’t actually know I’m there. Every few minutes the crowd pushes forward, crushing me between the group of guys behind and sending my face into the curly mess of hair in front. Not the worst possible scenario as my friend pointed out, since the girl’s hair actually smelt pretty good. I have to say though, we were lucky that we managed to stay close together, having nearly been split up towards the end of the performance, grabbing each other’s hand whenever one of us was truly threatened to lose our balance. Now that I think of it, If we had fallen, we probably would have died. No doubt.
Not to say that I wouldn’t do it again.
I have to believe it’s worth it if you can hold your own in a crowd.
Fair warning of course, for those of us under 5’5: bring a buddy, bend your knees slightly and stand with your feet hip length apart at all times.

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