Another 6 annoying people you'll meet at this summer's festivals
Words: Melly Neil | Illustrations: Jade Klara
In the first instalment of The Festival Folk we introduced you to: The Selfie Queen, The Hater, The Older Person, The Organised One, The Mooch and The Hypebeast. For part two we highlighted The Phone Person, The Has-Been DJ, Passed Out Guy, The Superfans, The Lovers and The Tall Guy. Now, may we present to you, our final list of the annoying people you'll see at every festival. Sorry.
Everyone knows that the best time to loudly retell your hilarious anecdote is when Matthew Mole is quietly explaining the backstory behind his latest song. While thousands of people lean in to listen, Miss Chatty is pretty much perched on your shoulder and giving you a play-by-play account of how Shelly... “...and you know how prissy Shell is, hey? Well, she had to use the portaloo, and could only bring herself to do it after it got dark, but by then she couldn’t hold it in anymore, and instead of going at the end of the field with the rest of us she rushed to place where the line looked the shortest, and well, what happened is she lowers herself onto the seat, but before she could touch down she feels, AHAHAHAH, she feels something wet and squishy touch her bum cheeks and that’s when we all hear her scream. Because. AHAHAHAHHA. Because. AHAHAHAHAHAAH. Because she’d sat on a pyramid of poo that had formed in the blocked toilet and AHAHHAHAHA, right, AHAHHa...” And it goes on like this until ‘Pumped Up Kicks’ comes on and then Miss Chatty’s shouting ‘WOOOOOOO’ at the top of her lungs and screaming along with the chorus.
Obviously nobody wants to hear Miss Chatty’s story about Shelly sitting on a pile of compacted poo in a blocked portaloo, but at the same time, listening to AKA brag about his lobster lunches in an ABAB rhyme scheme doesn’t exactly call for complete silence. The hissing of an irate shusher, usually covering everyone around them in spittle, and sounding like they’ve just got a puncture in their face, is just as horrible.
Whether the song is heavy or not, there will always be someone who, due to a lack of coordination and their inability to dance, must mosh to every. single. song. Perhaps they don’t even like music and just use festivals as an opportunity to elbow and karate kick other people in the face? This person is a lot like the dancer, whom you’ll meet further down, but the only move they seem to know is crashing into other people and trying to form a rolling maul while screaming “ROCK 'N' ROLL” by way of apology. Dude, it’s a Jeremy friggin' Loops set at the Hemp stage?! Calm yourself.
Unlike, say, running a marathon or sweating with Kayla, dancing is a manageable level of intensity that stimulates the endocannabinoid system, enhancing a sense of togetherness and freedom from our everyday routines. You clearly didn’t come here for a haircut, so if you’re not dancing then what are you even doing here? However, The Dancer should not be mistaken for other dancers, as this person is different in how they can’t stop, won’t stop, but probably should stop, and are the very reason there’s a medic tent at every festival.
What he looks like isn’t important. Yes, he could be in a neon vest, or simply a sunburned shirtless dude with praying hands tattooed above his coccyx, but wait, That Guy could also just as easily be you! Are you over the limit, falling over, throwing your arm around people and then fighting loudly with your girlfriend before leaving in a huff and reversing your car over somebody’s camping gear? Or maybe you’re grinding your jaw, dancing to a beat that isn’t there, telling strangers that you love them and tryna convince the guy next to you to start a toasted cheese sandwich pop-up restaurant in Bree Street? This one’s simple kids – don’t be that guy.
How is this person even at the same festival as us? It’s day three and while we’re looking like a mix of Britney (that time she shaved her head) and the badly packed Shawarma we bought at the petrol station on the drive up, this girl looks like she’s just climbed out of a tub of La Mer. Watch in awe as her bindi catches the natural light, and how the flow of her fringed vest sways in the breeze, those half moon crescents winking beneath her short shorts, and surely it must be impossible to keep white sneakers white at a festival? Maybe she’s not even real, and is, in fact, a mirage, or an activation organised by the festival’s sponsor to sell more of their off-the-shoulder tops? Whatever she is, out of everyone on the list, we hate this girl the most.