Earlier this week, a short video surfaced on Twitter of the Yodeling Walmart Kid, a.k.a. Mason Ramsey, a.k.a. Lil Hank Williams on Instagram, crowd surfing (floating?) inside a tiny inflatable horse at a sold-out gig in Nashville. (For the Tennesseans in the room, it was at rock club Exit/In.) The scene is hilariously gentle—two roadies delicately ushering Ramsey’s petite frame onto a sea of outstretched arms, interrupted only by someone in the back of the room screaming, “Are you kidding me?” My colleague Ashley Reese, Jezebel’s noted Yodeling Walmart Kid stan, dedicated a blog to this spectacle in tribute.
As far as weird shit at concerts goes, it’s not totally out there—but it is unexpected, slightly bewildering, and absolutely entertaining. Now I need to know: What’s the most confounding thing you’ve ever seen at a concert? It doesn’t have to be a pint-sized country music performer taking yeehaw where an adult could only dream, and let’s be real—the wildest stories are probably about something some drunk asshole in the crowd did. I want to hear about it. Go long in the comments.
But first, let’s look at last week’s winners. No doubt, here are the most ridiculous things you’ve done to impress a crush. Y’all are thirsty as hell.
Tom.Cruise.Is.Weird, I appreciate your commitment to the pubic arts:
God this is so cringy. I was 19 and needed to look super, extra hot and sexy and attractive for my new bf, so after reading one incredibly dumb article in Cosmo, I followed their advice to shave - ummm, his initial - uh - down there. I spent a good twenty minutes perfecting it in the mirror and felt super sexy and waited for him to come home. (His initial was Z) so he did and I stood next to the door frame of the bedroom, trying to pose like one of the girls in the magazine. He took one look and started cracking up. Horrified and pissed, I demanded to know what was so funny. Welp, I shaved that Z just fine - only it was backwards.
Who doesn’t aspire to have the fearlessness of 12-year-old overtheriver1991?:
What didn’t I do to get the attention of my childhood crushes? There are so many cringy stories, but I think one of my favorites was when I convinced my group of friends in middle school to all take turns licking the same Blow Pop. I made sure to lick the Blow Pop right after my crush did so I could get his saliva in my mouth (the closest thing to making out that 12 year old me could get) and I made sure to make eye contact with him and lick it seductively when it was my turn. It’s so gross now that I think about it and I have no idea how we all didn’t get mono.
Also, this particular crush also turned out to be gay, so he was really not going to be into a gal like myself trying (and failing) to fellate a lollipop.
iplayviola... why? Garlic?:
Of my own volition, I ate five whole cloves of raw garlic to impress a boy at chamber music camp. There was no context—it wasn’t truth-or-dare, no relevant inside joke—it was a hormone-fueled impulse that I immediately regretted.
Raw garlic truly BURNS. In such a large quantity, this mound of garlic was spicier than every hot pepper I’ve ever tried. My eyes started weeping, my nose was running, I started sweating profusely. I ran back to my cabin to brush my teeth furiously, but my garlic saliva quickly oversaturated the toothbrush bristles and I was basically moving garlic juice around my mouth. I mouthwashed and repeated the whole cycle about four times to no avail.
I had originally schemed to make a move on this violinist at the campfire that night. My vampire-preventatuve breath was the least of my concerns. The stench of garlic emitted from every millimeter of my pubescent body: my hair, my sweat, my fingernails. I showered, squeezing out half a bottle of my finest cucumber-melon body wash.
These efforts were futile. My cabin-mates werehonest with me and tried to mitigate the damage I had already inflicted on my reputation.
“You should try to kiss him after rehearsal tomorrow instead,” they suggested kindly.
I was despondent. I felt so foolish, cursing my underdeveloped prefrontal cortex. I had crushed on this taciturn, mysterious, lanky violinist for three whole summers. We played Shostakovich and Mendelssohn together. I had ruined my life.
We all did this, pesto nexto mybed. Right? Right...:
I most definitely snorted a Pixy Stick during an assembly in fourth grade. I don’t recall the subject, but a bunch of us were sitting on the gym floor watching a movie and the lights were out. I was hanging with my bestie and the two boys we liked when one pulled out some Pixy Stix and dared us to try snorting one. Of course, I wanted to be cool, so I just snapped one up, cocked my head back and upended it into my nostril while snorting. It was...deeply painful. I coughed and screamed and caused a huge commotion. I tried not to puke as a teacher came over and quickly sussed out the scenario. We got in trouble for the candy. The next day that boy asked me to be his girlfriend, obviously.
Justthisonce, this would break the embarrassment meter in an old issue of J-14:
Tried to be super cool in front of my crush and his friends by pretending that I knew how to deep throat. Attempted to show them with a banana. Choked on it and then puked copiously all down my shirt and his jeans. Thank goodness we moved that summer.
Christinachristina, you’re definitely right. Get you’re grammar in check. See what I did there?:
As a high school freshman, I handed a note to my crush (who I had never spoken to) at the buses after school and then walked away. The note simply said “your hot.”
That’s right. I used “your” instead of “you’re”. It was horrifying. It’s no wonder he never followed up on it. I’LL NEVER LIVE IT DOWN.
Um, not only did otterbird learn to juggle...
I taught myself how to juggle. And Dungeon Mastered an entire summer-long campaign so as to lure him to my house to play with me and my brothers. I’m so embarrassed now. Though my brothers still speak with great reverence of that summer-long D&D campaign.
...so did anotherdayanothername? Was it the same guy? And was he Harry Styles?:
Ha! I joined the juggling club in college because my crush was the head of it. I actually successfully learned how to juggle so it was probably the most productive crush-related thing I have done.
Me, a pedant, I asked for ridiculous stories, not mortifying ones you should never tell a soul:
Do you mean the time I wrote a haiku on a leaf and gave it to an English major who was an ~*author*~ or the time I bought a dude who constantly ate sushi in class and was a smartass dick a convenience store box of sushi with a note that he could eat mine anytime? Anyway, I transferred out of that school after a year.
Now let’s hear those concert tales!