Forced Reckoning

I had an out of body experience forced upon me last night.

I went to a concert. . .a band I had been wanting to see for a long time. . .I bought the tickets in advance, found a friend to go with, even picked out the perfect outfit. . .I planned! Nothing was going to ruin the evening. . . .isn't that what we always think? Why do we kid ourselves. . .nothing ever goes as planned--especially under the night sky, with debauchery afoot.

We got to the venue, grabbed a couple of drinks and made our way to the middle of the room. I'm not a stage rusher, and I hate being in the back. . .I love being right in the middle of the floor when a live and explosive band is playing, that way you get lost in the energy of the crowd and the music becomes visceral and mellifluous. You become part of an experience--an energy.

Then the fates came to play with my night. During the set change between bands, I ran into a guy who was a devout fan of the band. He seemed nice, he was age appropriate, the conversation was benign. I thought of it as an interesting way to pass the time before the show began. Then the band takes the stage. . .guy tries to put his arm around me, I slightly shrug it off. I was not there to pick up anyone, I was there to see the band. The evening progressed and guy persisted, so I held his hand. . .this simple gesture of truce became the night's undoing. . .one thing led to another and mid way through the show he was kissing me and rubbing his hands all over me. I know I am partly to blame on how events unfolded. . .whiskey was coursing through my veins, I was entranced by the music, and I was tired of pushing the guy off, so I let him do as he wanted, so I could enjoy the band. As the rubbing continued, I was forced to leave body behind as I focused on the music. . .I call this the easy yet stupid solution.

My question is this. . .why didn't I just tell him to back off? Why was I so afraid of making him uncomfortable? Why did I sacrifice my own comfort for his? (Okay, so that is more than A question) I know I didn't want to be distracted from the music to deal with the situation. I hate conflict, so I avoid it. My other curious notion about the situation, is that the guy could not have enjoyed himself. . .or maybe he did. . .its not that he cared who I was, it was physical contact with energy of a good band surrounding the scene.

The problem (despite the obvious) is, I haven't reconnected with body yet this morning. I feel sleazy, I feel taken advantage of. . .but truly, there was no advantage to take. . .because I didn't say no. There was a silent no. . .but there was deafening defiance, which was needed in this case.

There will be no repeats of this event. . .the band is coming through town again. . .I am going, and this time I am going to exercise my conflict muscle, and I am going to be direct from the beginning. "Here to see the band. Not here to score. Go find someone else to rub up against." That will be my mantra. Then I will look up to the band, enjoy the music, and not disconnect from body, but allow body, soul, and mind to commune together in the experience.

Once again, I am two steps behind in the learning curve of life, but at least I learn.

Today I quote Douglas Adams. . "Life. . .is like grapefruit. It's orange and squishy and has a few pips in it. . ."