How Not to be a Dick this Festival Season

Do you hear that? It’s the faint rustling of desert wind through a crochet crop top, it’s the frantic “click” of a selfie being taken, the slosh of waterbottles filled with vodka.

Friends, festival season is upon us once again.

dev-festival2It’s a time of dancing and drinking and other various pagan debauchery. A time to sweat like a gross animal and pay $14 for margaritas and furiously makeout with a man you met two days ago while Haim is rocking so hard you briefly rethink your childhood girlband dreams. A time to laugh and sunburn and wait 15 minutes for a porta-potty.

It’s also a time to annoy the fringe-leather, straw-fedora’d fuck out everyone else in attendance.

We’re all friends here, we’re all out to have a good time and maybe find a dude with good hair and arms and punch him in the mouth with your mouth.

And I don’t want you to be “that guy” at the festival anymore than you want to be “that guy” so I’m going to help you. Here are some ways that you can avoid being a colossal dick at your next outdoor music festival.

dev-festival31. Don’t be “that guy” arguing with venue security.

You knew you couldn’t bring the water bottle into the venue. It said so on the website, on your ticket, and on like nine signs on the way to the entrance from the parking lot. Be a responsible mess like the rest of us and pre-game on the Lyft over. Your driver won’t mind because by the time you get there you’ll be just feel-good drunk enough to leave them a ridiculous tip.

2. Don’t be “that guy” with the selfie stick.

I am a huge proponent of the seflie. Selfie away. Selfie to your heart’s content. Selfie like you’re about to forget what you look like. But please, for the love of God, do not whip out that selfie stick in a public area. Outdoor festivals are already a controlled study in panicked crowds and b.o. spray pattern. We’re squeezed in like inebriated sardines shuffling from one stage to another. Personal space may not be a thing at these festivals but I’d still prefer not to have your $5 stainless steel eye-poker in mine.  Curb that mess, seflie your heart out on the sidelines and out of everyone’s hair.

3. Don’t be “that guy” in an aggressively ornate/obtrusive getup.

Okay, but is the vintage wedding dress with a massive train necessary? Or the giant floppy hat that obstructs everyone’s view? What about the nine enourmous spiky rings that hit everyone around you when you dance? I’m going to answer that for you: No. They are 500% not necessary. Necessary things are sunscreen and comfortable shoes- I like Dr. Scholl’s sandals because they’re cute but still provide decent arch support. Also not necessary: appropriative accessories like War Bonnets/Bindis/Dashikis. I shouldn’t have to tell you that. You’re a grown-ass adult with an internet connection, you should know that by now.

4. Don’t be “that guy” asking strangers for drugs.

Did we or did we not all just hang out in the same obscenely long security line? Did we not all get patted down by the same exhausted pear-shaped woman? Even if I did manage to somehow sneak in illicit substances I’m certainly not going to share my ill-begotten goods with some stranger that 1. Didn’t plan ahead and 2. Is being super obvious about the whole thing. These tickets are $200, Brosef Stalin. I’m not judging but I’m certainly not getting kicked out because of you.

5. Don’t be “that guy” trying to start a mosh pit.

Seriously, don’t. Unless the artist is encouraging it or it’s a genre that frequently inspires mosh pits, you’re just kind of looking like a dick. It’s not funny to try and start a mosh to knock people’s phones out of their hands, or single out unsuspecting girls- I see you doing it and it’s rude and it’s harshing everyone’s mellow. There’s absolutely nothing about Grimes’ “Genesis” that makes you need to knock the shit out someone else. Literally nothing.

Here’s what you can do instead: Help people take pictures, compliment people on their sartorial choices, have extra things like bandaids or tampons and apologize when you accidentally step on someone’s toes.

Also, bring a disposable camera. I have yet to see an event that wasn’t improved by bringing a $7 Rite Aid camera. Seriously, people love that shit.

Image Credits: Devon Henry
Devon Henry

Devon Henry

Devon Henry is a writer, amateur Viking, Comedic Perfomer and T-Rex impersonator from Southern California. She likes to write stories about love and monsters and Los Angeles. Her family is very proud of her though, admittedly, they probably wish she'd stuck to learning piano or had maybe been a little better at math.

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