Rock Monsters Romania

Text and photos by Ionela Pleșan

Once, with the song “Macarena” by Erika Isac, all the alpha males and misogynists of Romania came out to tell us, women, that it’s just in our heads, and in reality, it’s not like that. I found my inspiration and desire to write this article due to all the hateful comments I read and all the reactions seen and heard, some even from a policeman, and I thought to write this article about how to go to a concert as a girl and feel safe.

Let’s start, shall we?

Step 1: Location

What does this mean? Let’s say a band I like has a concert at location x. After the joy of the moment they announced the concert, I search for the location.

For most, I already have the plan made, but for those where the plan doesn’t exist yet, what do I look for? Positioning, is it in the city center, on the outskirts, how sketchy is the area? I check on Google Maps to understand if it’s close to a metro station, a bus station, or somewhere that might be crowded. Then I look for public lighting poles, and when I find them, I hope they work. I read reviews about the place to understand if the staff would help me if a creep wouldn’t leave me alone.

Furthermore, I look at what experiences other girls have had in that location. I go on good old Facebook, on the event of the concert, and see which acquaintances or friends are coming or are interested. In the worst case, I call them if something happens or at least I have someone to be there with. Well, what if the location is in a sketchier area without much activity around? The answer is simple. How much do I like that band? Is it really worth it? And if the answer is yes, I try to find a buddy to go with or to call and be in the area, and if I can’t find one, I gather my courage and go because, hey, I have to listen to cool bass and drums that never stop.

Step 2: Clothing

This depends a lot on how bold you are, as Erika Isac says. Do you dress like a boy so that those sketchy guys you see or pass by don’t realize right away that you have boobs and a butt, or do you risk it and want to feel okay and express your personality through the clothes you wear? It’s something I usually do, but when I realize that there is even the slightest chance that someone random might pick on me, I quickly switch to the boy chapter. This also depends a lot on the mode of transportation you use.

Do you go by Uber, Bolt, walk, or public transportation? From my point of view, the chances are lower with ride-sharing taxis, but maybe it’s just in my head. For example, I went to a concert at Expirat in July, and I had the nerve not to die of heat and wear a dress. I have the following options – Bolt/Uber, where, yes, maybe that random guy might decide to lock me in the car just because he saw a bit of skin in the summer at 40 degrees, or I go on foot or by public transportation. Something I don’t know what to say about. I feel like I’m exposing myself too much to danger.

With ride-sharing, I know that if it happens, it happens, but if I walk through Carol Park, for example, I have to consider more things. I share my location in real-time with a friend, I hold my keys between my fingers because who knows, I look left and right for sketchy people, I have my headphones in my ears just to seem unapproachable, but actually, they’re muted, so if I hear something suspicious, I’ve bolted.

Step 3: Getting There

I already have a well-known joke that somehow intertwines with my friends. I always send them the details of the ride-sharing trip and tell them that if I don’t respond in 10 minutes, I’m in the trunk. Sinister, isn’t it? It’s unfortunate that this is the reality we live in, yet it’s a reality often overlooked by many. If the driver seems sketchy to me, I exchange messages with people where I share details about him—what he does, what he says, how he drives. I leave some strands of hair, press my fingers against the window, etc. Perhaps to ease my slowly creeping fear, but also for later identification if something happens.

Step 4: Arriving at the Concert

I look at people and scan the room, identifying who I know, who I don’t, and who I can rely on for help if needed. I ensure that I visit the bathroom and common areas when they are occupied by others, minimizing the risk of being alone with a potential aggressor.

You might think it’s excessive, but I can’t forget what happened to me a few years ago. After a concert of a band I adore had just ended, as I was walking towards the wardrobe/exit, I unexpectedly encountered the stalker I had blocked everywhere and previously fled from. I sprinted towards the wardrobe and then rushed to call an Uber and get home. Who wore only steel-toed boots for a month afterward? That would be me. So, don’t tell me that these things don’t happen; they’re not just stories.

Step 5: Drinking

If I want to drink something—believe it or not, women also drink alcohol—I have to take the bottle or glass with me wherever I go, and I can’t afford to take my eyes off it.

The first thing is that I watch the bartender when they prepare everything to make sure they don’t slip anything in or if that particular bottle is already open. The second thing is that I have to finish that drink before the concert starts. Because if it starts and I still have to drink, I can’t focus on two things at the same time. The third thing is that I don’t care if I washed my hands before, disinfected, that’s it.

When I talk to someone else or hold the bottle, I always have my hand over the mouth of the bottle or glass. Let’s say I go to the bathroom; I take the drink with me. I don’t leave it unattended, and if I did that, I left it on the table until I came back in a few minutes. I can’t afford not to order another one from the bar. Who knows if someone put something in it? Because, you know, being a girl alone at a concert, they might think they can easily get away with it.

Step 6: During the concert

I observe people’s reactions, noting who behaves oddly or inappropriately. I consciously avoid those individuals and stay closer to acquaintances for added safety. Additionally, if I notice a suspicious person bothering another girl, I intervene. Unlike nearby boys who may remain indifferent, I take action because everyone’s safety matters.

Step 7: Post-Concert Protocol

I wait briefly for the first wave of the crowd to pass. If I spot someone suspicious staring at me, I subtly stick close to someone nearby. Then, I head towards the wardrobe or exit, joining the group of people already waiting for transportation.

Step 8: Dealing with discomfort and safety concerns

I speak with the bartenders or the security guard and inform them about the individual. I’ve had enough situations where the guard immediately took action.

I don’t know what it’s like to attend a concert as a boy. For me, it’s always filled with anticipation and thoughts of potential scenarios. When I return home, I’m relieved that I’ve prepared for most situations, and only the worst ones didn’t come true. It would be nice to go to a concert without fearing being objectified or becoming a target for someone’s boredom or aggression, with the blame unjustly placed on me because of my attire, such as wearing shorts. Additionally, most of the time when I wear a skirt or dress to a concert, I have biker shorts underneath in case I need to flee for safety. You never know.

Also, there’s another option regarding shoes. Perhaps I want to seize the opportunity to wear those stylish high heels or platform boots, but the question is, are they practical for me? If someone harasses me, I need to be able to react quickly. That’s why I usually opt for sneakers. Running in Vans is different from running in heels, after all.

Special note

Before you comment and claim that nothing I’ve written here is true, take a moment to think. Ask your girlfriends who attend concerts or, if you’re the one behaving inappropriately by leering at girls or dancing inappropriately, look at them like objects, refrain from commenting and F OFF!

See you at concerts! Stay safe!