The Approaching storm outside the Riverplex Amphitheater / Photo by Ashly Nagrant

There seems to be this belief among people, including my friends and family, that being a concert reporter is this extremely glamourous, exciting, VIP experience. And sometimes it can feel that way.

But it rarely feels that way at an actual concert. Well, exciting, yes, but glamourous? Glamourous is not crouching in a pit, being kicked in the head and back by crowd surfers, getting spit on by the band (okay, this only happened to me once and it was Chris #2 from Anti-Flag, so I’m not exactly complaining) and trying not to run into other people in the pit. Occasionally at some venues it means sprawling on your back in a pit to get the right angle for a shot (Mr. Small’s Theatre, I’m looking at you).

All of this, of course, means you first have to get INTO the venue.

Which is sometimes more of a challenge than others.

Take Friday, July 17th 2009. I was scheduled to cover All Time Low for Pop Damage. They were playing a show at the Sandcastle Riverplex, a venue I’d never photographed before, so I was pumped about it. Also, We The Kings were opening and I seriously LOVE We The Kings and have shot them several other times in Pittsburgh. To top it all off, this was the first show I would be shooting All Time Low where my photos wouldn’t all be exclusive to the publication I was shooting for…which meant a nice buff for my portfolio. Because, seriously, they are a ridiculously photogenic band.

Anyway, I get to the venue early, just in case there are any problems. As it turned out, this was a good idea as there wasn’t a separate line for the Will Call window. Which, considering the number of people there who were picking up tickets, would have been a good idea.

Then again, this was just the first bit of proof that the Riverplex was not ready for this kind of a show. Not only was the box office situation a mess, but they had seriously underestimated how many fans would get there early to line up and fight for barricade. There just wasn’t enough room for the line already forming at the gate at 5:30.

So, I finally get to the ticket booth, hand my photo ID to the man working the window and tell him I should be down for a photo pass.

The response? “Nope.”

Okay, this has happened before. I smile and say “Oh well, better call my editor!”

But this guy’s look said it all. He didn’t believe for a second I had an editor or that I was really there to cover the show. His look clearly said “Stop trying to scam your way into my venue.”

Contrary to his belief, I did have an editor and I called her immediately. Rima answered and I told her what happened. She told me she’d get everything straightened out. I wasn’t too worried since this sort of thing has happened to me before. When I covered The Maine earlier this year I wasn’t on the list and their tour manager was nice enough to come out to meet me and give me a press pass and apologize for the mistake.

At 6:31 she Twittered at me “Hey, I just called Nicole @ Big Hassle. She’s working it out as we speak…”

“Big Hassle.” OH, HOW APPROPRIATE THIS NAME WOULD BECOME!

And then, at 6:37 “Hang tight. The band’s tour manager will be out to get ya shortly.”

Through all of this, the sky had steadily been growing darker. And then the rain came.

Oh, did the rain come. We’re not talking tiny little fast drops, either. We are talking raindrops the size of my head flying at death-defying speeds (though, I don’t know if it counts as death defying since water can’t really die…) and smacking the ground and everything else with the force of an angry god. For a bit, I stick it out waiting by the box office…then eventually take shelter against a wooden fence that sheilds me from the worst of it for about five minutes. Then I got a hand from a friendly tree for about three minutes before I finally moved across the parking lot to the only roofed area outside the venue.

By now it is after 7. The show has been stalled for 15 minutes in order to see if the rain subsides. I am still not in the venue. I call Rima again, tell her what’s going on, and her answer, spoken in sheer disbelief, was “You’re STILL not inside?”

This would become the catchphrase for the night. Because after several more calls, talking to at least two members of the bands’ crews myself and completely missing the set by opening act Days Difference, I was STILL waiting by the box office and getting occasionally glared at by the guy who thought I was trying to scam my way in.

At 7:45 I put my foot down, called Rima and told her that if somebody was not there by 8, I was done. She immediately agreed and gave me permission to go. And, sure enough, by 8 I had yet to meet anyone who was there to help me get inside.

So, this is why there is no review of this show. Instead, you got a Potter review from me, since I immediately called a friend and told her I was going to buy new clothes and then we were going to see Half Blood Prince. Me? I got a great Lucky Brand tee-shirt for $13 at TJ Maxx (I swear by that place, yo), an awesome hamburger at Rock Bottom and at least one rant for the evening NOT related to having to wait in the rain for a show I was increasingly less interested in covering:

In All Time Low’s latest video, Weightless, there is a scene where four girls in revealing clothing are headed backstage and the words “Band Slut” appear over their heads. The idea is, if you have any intention of coming backstage and sleeping with the band, you are a slut. Before anyone gets into me about the girls grabbing Jack and pulling him into a closet for apparently forced sex (and, um, yeah, let’s not even go into how “rape isn’t funny”), the words are there before the girls even lay a hand on the band, they appear as soon as they are let backstage.

During the 15 minute delay, All Time Low frontman Alex Gaskarth entertained the crowd by playing songs from his iPod. While I applaud his taste in dance music (Lady Gaga was pretty much exactly what I needed at that point), I wasn’t thrilled when he announced to a crowd of largely underaged girls “I want you all to get wet and naked for me!”

So…a band member telling girls to get wet and naked for him? 100% okay. A girl implying she has any intent to sleep with a member of a band who has asked you to get wet and naked for him? GOD, YOU’RE SUCH A SLUT!

Also, I got to meet a very nice looking young man (who I hope was at least 21). We chatted while waiting for the situation to get handled…which it obviously didn’t. On the off chance he is reading this: e-mail me because we should totally grab coffee or something.