31 of the Absolute Worst People at Music Festivals
Every year I have a wonderful experience at the Austin City Limits Music Festival and other shows, but every year several asshats almost ruin it. Continuing with my tradition of sloppily cranking out some clickbait, I decided to jot down a few observations from last year's trip to Zilker Park.
Giant Flag Gerry
We get it. You want attention. You want to be the rallying cry... the focal point of your friend’s festival existence. However, you’ve had 16 Miller Lites, your shoddily constructed pole keeps knocking into people, and we can’t see the stage!
Hot Cindi on the Shoulders
Similar to Giant Flag Gerry, you are drunk, knocking into everyone and blocking the view (okay if 18+ and topless).
Benny the Baby Bringer
Your kids don’t want to be there, you don’t want them with you, and it makes the rest of us depressed watching your sunburnt offspring cry in the beer line. Get a sitter, stay home, or catch Mumford & Sons next year.
Paint Huffing Pauli
Dude. Wait. Did I really just see that? You are huffing spray paint – at a giant outdoor music festival? So, so many questions… but first I have to scramble to get my iPhone came- ah dammit he’s gone.
Crowd Surfing Carlisle
This isn’t that sort of show, bro. It’s Band of Horses, you are hammered, and weigh 230 pounds. GET OFF US!
Camp Family Robinson
Every year people pack a week’s worth of newly purchased REI gear and head to the festival only to hunker down in the chair zone for a nap. Worst off, we are always behind them in the security line.
Could Care Less Laci
You waited an hour to get side stage, had to flirt with an ex to get wristbands from his company, and then pushed your way to the front. But instead of enjoying Local Natives from the best spot in Zilker Park, you are on your phone.
Snapchat & Insta Story Sarah
OMG she’s like, totally gotta cover all the festival ASAP rather than actually enjoy it! She’s found the PERFECT filter, put a top hat on M83, and even found a decent connection to post one of her 20 snaps (all during the first song).
Anyone named Matt is just the fucking worst. Seriously, why would you invite him? He doesn't even listen to rap. He's pretending to sing along to Schoolboy Q.
Anyone with a Flash Tat
Have fun at Kygo.
Sweaty Shirtless Samuel
At some point you are going to make physical contact with another human and that’s just disgusting.
Harriet Swag Hoarder
She’s carrying a bag of sunglasses, six waters out of the VIP, has a tote filled with organic peanut butter samples, and keeps stopping every ten yards to pick up all the crap she dropped.
Ironic Fashion Ferdinand
Normal festival fashion is a bitch to deal with now this? Take those dick shirts and shove them up your ass!
“But ver German!” Oh, okay.
Wait! Who’s your favorite club in the Bundesliga?
“ahhhh, uuuh, Schalke 04?”
LIARS! You just want your picture taken.
Aggressive Bro, Angry Bae
Some people are just ready for a fight. Aggressive bro is drunk, on pre-workout with Adderall, and he’s ready to kick the shit out of you! He walks fast and you better move out of his way. He is going to muscle you out of any space and if you happen to knock into him during Kendrick, better be ready to rumble. Angry Bae just wants to talk shit but is not past clawing your face off or getting all of her friends involved.
Nothing is good enough for her. She’s got to hustle, bustle and push her way to all the secret areas of any stage or festival. If security DARE question her she raises hell. Sidestage with free booze? NOT GOOD ENOUGH! She needs to be on stage, playing with the band and getting an IV of Whiteclaw directly into her rectum. “OMG, my friends will be so jelly. Now it’s time to leave and make my way back stage so more people can see me watching another band.”
Spits Water Into the Air Walter
When sweating in the thick of a crowd, under the heat of the Texas sun; no thinks to themselves: “I wish someone would spit water so high into the air it will rain down upon us like a fine, cooling mist.”
Front of the Line Fail Lindy
It’s an unspoken rule in society. We are a unit. A team. All of us. Whether you are waiting to get in the park, ordering a beer, or are next in line at the port-a-potty; HAVE YOUR SHIT TOGETHER and be ready to roll when called upon!
Wristband Douche Danni
Screw you and your access to all the free booze, food, and air conditioned porta-potties. Why are you even here?
Anyone Who Stands in This Line
Walker Lukens is playing right now and you've been waiting for an hour, in the sun, to have an idiot you don’t know take a blurry, basic ass picture of you in the ACL Fest Frame? Pro Tip: Get there before 4pm or wait until it gets dark. Or don’t.
Friend of your Ex Felicity
Oh god dammit why do I always run into you? Why do you always look so hot? No, I don’t have a molly hookup. Yes, let’s get a beer. Yes, I did bring my wallet. Oh, this is Dave? Cool good to meet your date. Sure, I'll take your picture. Oh, at the giant frame? Sure, I'll wait in line with you two. Good seeing you as well! Yeah, sure I’ll catch y'all at Die Antwoord.
Fuck you and your Indian Chief hat, neon tank top and everything else you roided up Real Estate Broker who preys on teen girls at edm shows.
Berlin Wall of Bros
I’ve said it before: if you are a big & tall man, you don’t belong upfront at a concert. Furthermore, why are you at the Chainsmokers, dude(s)?
Too Fucked Up Fred and Finger Fiona
You know what makes me want to get all Jim Morrison? Corinne Bailey Rae. Learn to control your drinking, learn to drug right, and keep your genitals in your pants.
Blanket Fort Brecken
Much like Flag Freddie, your group MUST hang at all times. Only, you’ve decided to post up at one area, set up 50 square feet of blankets and block them off with lawn chairs. All though you are blocking the main foot path to the stage you cuss out anyone who dare tread on the corner of your blanket.
Patchouli isn’t working bro. You’ve been dancing all day and now feel the need to bump into me every other song. Go take a dip in Barton Springs with a bar of soap.
Fuck seeing any music or enjoying life. Pete sits his Tommy Bahama wearing ass back stage, sipping on free tequila, judging and bitching about how much he hates music festivals. Meanwhile, his hot wife is grinding with frat bros at Flume.
I am literally the worst (even more so than a Matt). Have a great fest!
About the Author
CJ Morgan is not a writer. He is a click-bait hack and angry radio DJ who is bitter over the fact no one ever clicks on his stuff and that he will never be famous enough.