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You’re just trying to have a good time enjoying the music.  They tell you that all the crazies like to congregate on the field in a quasi mosh pit of sweat and flesh.  A few of the crazy manage to work their way up to the nosebleed section to shatter your tranquil peace.  Hey, you’re at Citi Field in Queens.  You have to expect as much.

Quietly passing a doobie and enjoying the ride when a drunken (or high) lout starts harassing people.  He is bothering the women and then wanting me to kick his ass.  I just want him to leave.  He is finally escorted away by police and we notice that he is not wearing any pants.  He was shoving his junk in other people’s space.  He wants me to hit him.  I await security and police to escort him out.  No one injured but a few people stirred by the event.

Pants still required

no one wants any mushrooms

at least not that kind

Then after he is removed, we all wonder about it.  I didn’t even realize he was half naked when I was trying to convince him to just walk away.  I never beat up a naked guy before.  I’m glad I didn’t have to start here.  I don’t think I need something like that on my resumé.  It’s not an entry on my bucket list.  I assure you of that.  Then a couple police officers had to find his clothes including his undergarments.  That was a rather unpleasant recovery.  It made me glad to just be a drunk, stoned Deadhead.

Mad search on bleachers

find abandoned underwear

reclothe nude moron