So let it be known I've only been to two concerts in my life. Last night was the second one, the first being last November when I saw Emilie Autumn in New Orleans with Heather as my Christmas present. The band we saw last night is The Protomen, a rock group who performs a sort of rock opera (sans acting, there are some 'scenes' though so you get the idea of the story) based off of Megaman. She's adored the band for 4 years, I've liked them but wasn't wholly obsessed. When we found out a few months ago they'd be headed here, we were excited. I ended up buying the tickets (only $20, no biggie) and we planned for dinner and coffee beforehand so I left the house at 5pm (ok we did, my mom has to drive me everywhere I don't have a license. We can't afford the car insurance if I did, so a permit it stays, probably forever) and around 6 we ate, grabbed coffee at 7:30, got there for 9 when the doors opened. As much as I love the city of New Orleans, I hate the French Quarter. I can play a counting game with how many hookers I see on one block and you go from one block being bars to the next being an artsy-fartsy hippie hangout area to seedy motels and dives. Crazy.

Anyway, they check our IDs, I get stamped with an "underage" stamp on both hands since I'm 20, she gets a wristband saying she can have booze (she did not drink, thank God) and we go in. I had read beforehand on the site they allowed smoking, but I thought it was at the bar, which was in the room we just exited to get on the dance floor/lounge/stage area. Nope! Whole place. I believe I mentioned before that I'm asthmatic, and what that means is smoke, dust, and other such things constrict my airways and cause my throat to close so that I can literally suffocate. I hoped no one would majorly smoke around me and we grabbed a place up front since it was fairly empty. Two guys around my height (5'3", which is unusual for guys) start talking to us (OK, mainly Heather seeing as she's the pretty one) and the guy compliments her on the W drawn in liquid liner on her cheek as well as the bow in her hair. The W was homage to one of the band members since they all wear face paint with different designs and his was a giant W. Thing is, I'd drawn one on myself first (I had drawn the other on her) and gave her a bow that matched mine. I also had written "Keep Quiet" (One of their songs) across my mouth in a smile form like it was sealing my mouth. She pointed out it was my idea (she got tons of compliments on those things all night and only one person noticed my mouth which pissed me off but oh well) and he shrugged it off and they chat it up, basically backhanded flirting. I'm more than a little disgusted so I back off to let them do their thing. He goes to light up, she tells him not to because "we're allergic", meaning her and I. I appreciated the concern for my health even though she lives with a smoker. He backed off, but lit up later.

First opening act starts, I don't care for them and it's getting crowded behind me. The assholes onstage light up, blowing smoke in my face while I have jerks lighting up behind me and tapping the ashes into the trash on my right. At last these guys get off the stage and the second opening act comes on, neither thankfully a smoker. They were more lively and messed with us. By the time they're done my feet are hurting. I stood up for 3 hours straight for the Emilie Autumn concert with some discomfort, but I was wearing flea market crocs. Last night I wore normal slip on shoes. Anyway, so at last the Protomen take the stage, I get my camera and begin recording songs to put on Youtube and to have as memories (I didn't take any pictures, those take more focus and 80% are shit because someone moved) and while they weren't how I expected and the mics weren't going as strong as the instruments, it was definitely something. By song 6 I feel like my feet are bleeding, I can't stay standing. I figure I'd kneel a bit, then get back up or just sit on my butt the rest of the time. The stage was only a foot high so recording from the floor wouldn't be too bad. I record two more songs kneeling and have to quit. Heather's checked on me once but she's so into the concert she basically wasn't paying attention anymore. By relaxing, the smoke had gotten to me and now I was miserable, sick, light-headed, and lost interest in the show. I laid my head on the edge of the stage and just watched, sort of glassy-eyed.

Finally it ended and I'm silently thanking whatever deity blessed me with reprieve, but everyone calls for an encore. I'm thinking OK one more song, no it ends up being five. Second song in I told Heather I was going to snag an empty booth, nurse my water, and hope I didn't need an ambulance. The part that had seats was vacated by now so there was no cloud of smoke looming to fuck my lungs backwards. I chill, listen to the music, and feel bitter because no one seemed to care and she was having a better time than me. I even watched as, at the true end, she was pulled onstage and hugged one of the members, feeling now more bitterness towards her and the night. I tried calling my mom to let her know we were finished but I had no signal. Heather eventually wound back to me and tells me one of the members wants to meet me. I'm thinking she means she wants me to meet them so I grab my bag and follow her.

One of the other members stops us first, a man named Murphy, and immediately asks if I'm OK. I told him yeah I was doing better, I just got overwhelmed by smoke. He asks my name, compliments my shirt (it was their limited edition tee I snagged in January) and all three of us chat a bit. Yet again another member stops us on our way to see the lead singer Panther, this time Turbo Lover, the one with the W on his cheek. He asks me if I'm OK too, gives me a hug, and runs off to sign stuff. Eventually we get to Panther, who like the others asks after me. Turns out they'd all noticed me slumped on the stage and had almost sent one member to see if I needed a doctor.

It honestly touched me that these guys, strangers, saw a fan who was sick and genuinely ask after her health. My respect went up for them tenfold. I felt even better when I was treated as an equal with no awkwardness one might get from a fan or to one whereas Heather was nearly wetting herself. As we were leaving a couple others told me they hoped I felt better. It made my night. I know they aren't 'mainstream' so it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but they are very popular and their presence is demanded all over the US and a couple other countries, so I still count it as humbling when they can put aside any notion of fame to look out for someone they don't know.

And that was my adventure in New Orleans last night. 9pm to 2am inhaling smoke.