When you’re at a concert, there are a lot of terrible things that apply to all people. Some things, though, are specific to us diminutive versions.

The most obvious problem is that you can’t see the show, of course. I hear stories of how great it is to see concerts live. I’ve even seen some from very far away and it looked pretty cool. I hear that one of the best parts about going to concerts is that you get to watch the bands perform. To me, concerts are just a cool way to hear a band you like.

Relatedly, while you can’t see, you either have to look down at the floor, or blackness, if it’s particularly dark, or you have to stare at the back of the giant in front of you. It feels like you’re in an abyss of squeezing human bodies contracting on your own like monstrous lobster claws made of social nightmares.

Another terrible thing about being short is that you seem to be about the height of swinging cigarettes, if you’re unlucky enough to live in a city where people are still allowed to smoke at indoor concerts.

You’re also an amazingly perfect height for getting a drink spilled completely onto your whole everything! It’s incredible how perfect it is, really. One slip and you’re drenched in beer from shoulder to shoe, when your buddy next to you got a splash on his toes.

Amandoll suggested that maybe a benefit of this all would be that, since you can’t see anything, there is no motivation to get crushed in the crowd.

Ah, if only. Unfortunately, if you go to a concert with anyone tall enough to reach my kitchen cupboards, they’ll be compelled to squeeze and slither their way to a better view. Since you presumably want to be near them, you have to squeeze and slither your way behind them, bumping and apologizing along the way.

Hey, at least live shows sound great.