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September 07, 2010

A true-story of me getting kicked out of FYF Fest 2010 in LA.

This weekend I went to a music festival.  The FYF Fest 2010 in downtown LA, to be exact.  It’s an Indie rock concert that runs from 11am - midnight consisting of three stages, a comedy tent, extremely overpriced food trucks, a beer garden (undoubtedly only serving semi-warm PBRs), and an army of people your parents wouldn’t let you hang out with in high school.  Hipster nation was out in full effect.  Picture the most ridiculous-looking human being you’ve ever seen, now imagine if that person had 5,000 friends just like him but not all *hipster mentality*.  They were all in attendance at FYF Fest.  (I only recently found out the FYF stands for F**k Yeah Fest, great use of acronyms. FYF Fest=F*** Yeah Fest Fest).

I digress.  

Now the bands in attendance, for the most part, play pretty cool music.  Local NativesWavves, andBest Coast especially.  But even some the bands were hysterically indie… “Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti,” “Abe Vigoda,” “Titus Andronicus,” and one band so indie, it doesn’t even need words..“!!!”   I mean, really?

Again I digress.  Here’s the story..

After standing in the heat/sitting on dirt and rocks for 6 hours I decide I want to leave.  I find a rather large security guy that looks like a much meaner-version of the kid from The Blind Side. I ask where I can find an exit.  He replies, “What? Whatchu want to leave or something?!”  ”Um, yes. Is that allowed?” I’m thinking.  He then tells me I “can TRY over there,” pointing to the main entrance packed with people trying to get inside.  Do these people not have an exit strategy for this fenced-in park?! Probably not, it’s an apathetic engagement anyway.  I choose not to swim up the stream of annoyed hipsters at the entrance, and walk along the fence line to the opposite side of the park. Surely the entrance is opposite of the exit, I think to myself.. maybe out loud.. Not important..  Finally in the northeast corner of the park, literally the corner, there is a giant gate with two big posterboards that have the words “EXIT” sharpie’d onto them. Hallelujah.

I ask the tent full of security guards (apparently all related to the previous guard: huge, black, and terrifying) if they mind letting me out.  One speaks up and says “This is a vendor’s exit.”  I say, “okay so where do normal people exit?”  Mind you, we’re in the corner.. He then points aimlessly to the entire concert and says, “over there.” So I say, “Look I’m not coming back, can I just go out here?”  He starts getting angry, stands up, and tells me again that I can’t use this exit.  

So as we go back-and-fourth about the location of where I exit this drug-induced musical field party, a vendor (a guy with a wristband) walks up.   The security guard, while arguing with me, opens the gate allowing the vendor to walk out.  Like the child-minded person I am, I just slide right behind the guy as he walks out. Standing on the other side, I give the guard, a hands in the air, head-cocked back “WHAT NOW?!” look.  His eyes get HUGE, nostrils flare, throws open the gate, and grips my bicep as though it were the handle to a baseball bat; all before I can think, “Wow, those are huge nostr….”  His twin jumps up and grabs my other arm.  Now I’m thinking, “well they are going to rip my arms off and use my body as a human tee-ball stand, my head being the ball…”

Now they are both yelling at me about how I can’t leave through the exit. Then all of a sudden (mid-yell) they throw me through the open gate. He slams it shut, and he locks it even.  Then the monster guard looks at me and yells, “You can’t get back in now, funny guy!”  I simply yell back “THANK YOU!!” as I run away.

I got kicked out of a concert for trying to leave.. this is my life.