When I told my boyfriend about my “Fish Out of Water” assignment his eyes lit up. “Babe, I have a great idea.” He said. “You always drag me to swanky bars with your girlfriends, you can come to my friends metal show this weekend.”
This sounded like an awful idea, not only do I hate metal, but I really, really hate metal. But I figured since I “drag” him to my “swanky” (this is an major exaggeration on his part) bars, I would see what a metal show was all about.
The term “Fish Out of Water” seems a little sugar coated for how I felt.
We arrived at 7 p.m. Iron Maiden songs were the only ones I recognized from the stereo as the first band set up, and this is only because my brother is a huge fan and would always play their music.
The show was at the Blue Lagoon in Santa Cruz, this bar is known for being dirty, filled with sleazy people, and having cheap, bad drinks. Just being there, I felt out of place.
As time went by, more and more black-clad metal heads arrived and milled about on the sidewalk. My skinny jeans, brightly colored top, and five-inch heels made me stick out like a sore thumb, but no one seemed to care about my presence.
Around 8 p.m., the first band went on, and played some interesting music under a red light in the dimly lit bar. My boyfriend said it wasn’t death metal. It was too slow. I think he categorized it as “doom.”
One thing I learned from this experience was there are many more sub-genres to metal than I ever realized. And the fact that the songs were in Spanish made no difference, given you could not distinguish words from the lead singer’s guttural vocals anyways.
At one point my boyfriend looked over at me, and just started laughing, apparently I looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and mouth just slightly open in awe.
After the second band and my second drink I felt a little bit more comfortable. I actually knew one of the musicians in the band, so even though I didn’t really enjoy the music, it was fun to watch him rock out on stage.
Around 11p.m. I had my fill of metal for the night, and probably my lifetime. It was definitely an eye opening experience, to say the least.
Next time I try to get my boyfriend to go to one of my bars, I’ll think twice about dragging him, in order to get out of going to one of his.
