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There’s this all ages metal venue in Inglewood called The Black Castle that I’ve taken Nathaniel to a couple times. They’ve had some good thrash metal shows there. It’s a pretty cool little club. It’s also in a bad neighborhood, and we kind of stand out there. We don’t dress like metalheads (jeans, band patches on denim jackets, studded belts, etc), and we’re not Mexican, like most of the kids there. And of course, I’m not even a kid. Just a crazy old lady at a thrash metal show.

Anyway we heard the venue wasn’t going to be booking thrash metal anymore because they always end up with a huge mess after the thrash shows. Tagging, damaging the walls, kids not using toilets…all very punk rock, but not very cool. And I guess cars outside the venue have been vandalized. Inglewood is basically on the edge of Compton. Definitely not a good area.

Well last night was the last thrash metal show they’re going to have there, so Nathaniel really wanted to go. Southern Cali has a great thrash metal scene right now. His friend Dillon has his driver’s license now, so I thought maybe they’d go without me. I was really tired yesterday and didn’t know any of the bands on the bill. But Nathaniel said he wouldn’t go if I didn’t, so I decided to go.

To be honest, one reason I decided to go was that Dillon is a bit of a magnet for being picked on (he always seems to be the one who gets an elbow in the eye, or some guy randomly punching him in the head), and I’d feel really bad if anything happened to him while they were in such a bad part of town, alone. Nathaniel laughed at me: Like I’m going to protect them? But you know boys. Less likely to start a riot if mom’s along. I hope.

The irony is that I was the one to get injured.

I stood in the back corner of the venue. The place isn’t that big, but it’s basically square-shaped. I stood in front of the soundman’s booth, so I could have something to lean against. The mosh pit takes up almost the whole place. And people would occasionally come careening out of the pit and smash into the people standing in front of me, who would then smash into me. The first few times it wasn’t a big deal—you’ve gotta expect it at these kind of shows. There was a young guy next to me wearing glasses who would always ask if I was OK after each smashing. I thought it was nice of him to keep an eye out for the crazy old lady. But totally unnecessary. I’ve been going to shows for how long now?

As the night went on, it got more and more crowded, and I was having issues with people crowding my personal space. I didn’t want to give up my spot and not have anything to lean against. But I kept edging to the left so I could have some open space on at least one side. I thought several times about trying to move to the other corner of the venue, which is where Nathaniel and Dillon were, but I was tired and it was crowded.

The sound booth I was leaning against was basically just a counter. And edging to the side was a bad idea—I was leaning with my back against the corner of the counter. When the next person came crashing into us, I got hit right in the breastbone. And the corner of the counter behind me totally jabbed into my back, against my spine.

I felt like maybe I’d cracked some ribs, or just got the wind knocked out of me, or something—actually, I was worried I’d damaged my spine, because my whole rib cage and back felt weird. Mr Glasses asked if I was ok, and I shook my head, no. It was kind of hard to breathe. He immediately grabbed me and whisked me outside, pushing our way through the crowd—it was hard to walk, he really helped support me and get me out of there. He told the security at the door I’d been hurt, but they barely glanced my way. I thanked him and told him I’d be fine so he went back in.

I stood against the wall outside the door until I felt like I could go back in, then I stayed just inside the door. A young woman was standing there and she said to me, “So I’m not the only out who is out of place here?”

After that band finished I found Nathaniel and told him I’d gotten hurt and was going to go wait in the car or at the Jack in the Box down the road—there was no way I could stand for another couple hours. I ended up sitting in my car, playing my PSP, until about 11:30, when Nathaniel and Dillon came out. They skipped the headlining band because Dillon wanted to leave.

I don’t know why he wanted to leave, but I like to think it was because he knew I was sitting in the car, trying to act like I wasn’t noticing the the guy who was crouching down behind a tree trunk right next to my car, POOPING. It wasn’t even a mentally ill guy or a homeless man—it was one of the guys who’d been at the show.

I guess I can see why the neighborhood isn’t too keen on the Black Castle booking thrash metal bands.

Always an adventure, at least. I’m OK—my back is sore, in weird places, so I’ve been making everyone else do anything that involves bending, or lifting, or—well, anything besides sitting down.

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