Mob Mentality

When leaving the OutsideLands Festival on Saturday night a good majority of the 60,000 in attendance had to exit the polo field through a tunnel. The tunnel was about 30 feet wide and 15 feet tall and with thousands of people trying to get out, it was a bit congested to say the least. As we walked shoulder to shoulder like a herd of cattle entering a coral for the night, I had myself a moment. It may have been the half bottle of vodka I'd consumed or the slight vertigo I'd developed after 12 hours of eardrum shattering music; whatever it was it lead to a hilariously dark realization.

As we shuffled towards the tunnel, people on top of the tunnel would yell and cheer (god only knows why) and people in the crowd going through the tunnel with me would yell and scream back (once again, god only knows why). In addition to the periodic cheering (for god-knows-what), we were moving at a snail's pace and had to stop every couple steps. As I stood there squished like a panini in a press wondering who was stepping on my foot, why the guy next to me was trying to hold my hand, where my friends had disappeared to and why the hell people were yelling, I couldn't help but think:

"This must be what it's like entering hell"

A bunch of fools cheering for no reason, as they shuffle to an unknown destination without giving a second thought to the ridiculousness of the situation. We will cheer like buffoons as we enter the darkness and then as we arrive and realize where we are, the heat beating against us like an open oven in a Louisiana kitchen during summer, we will all think to ourselves:

"God dammit. I've been had".