Louis Tomlinson World Tour – Washington, DC – February 10, 2022
(Disclaimer: I am a 50-year-old woman who has been to hundreds of concerts in my life, from small theaters to 10K outdoor free concerts, to stadiums and arenas, but I’ve never been in a concert “pit.”)
If you’ve read this blog at all, you know I can’t keep my mouth shut when I have something to say. I saw Louis Tomlinson in DC on 2/10/22 and I need to vomit words on the page because I can’t keep them in my head. Consider this a one-woman one-show tour diary.
My friend Simone and I flew in from Boston on the 9th. We met up with a few twitter friends and had dinner and a lot of laughs (shout out to Brendan the poor waiter at the Grille at the Wharf who waited on us). We’d scoped out the venue, and sort of had an idea of where the line would form the next day. On the way out, we realized some people were already camping. We were a little annoyed, because let’s face it, we had fantasies of being at the barricade, but none of us were prepared to camp overnight. We had read that it wasn’t allowed and for a second, we hoped those people would be asked to leave, but there’s no way I’d want Louis tarnished with a venue arresting or removing peaceful fans from the area.
I do not at all begrudge those fans who were able to camp overnight. They went for it, and they were permitted to stay.
We arrived back at the venue at 5:45 a.m. and got in line. A couple of girls were numbering people at first to keep the line orderly before staff showed up (we were 189 and 190)—so we know we were in the first 200 people in line. When staff arrived, we were given instructions and told about the Wharf area (when things would open, where to find coffee, where to find the restrooms).
The Wharf had very accessible bathrooms, lots of restaurants, a café, some lunch spots that did takeout, and a CVS. It was VERY easy to get resources. To anyone thinking that the DC crowd was not well hydrated, I think that would be generally untrue. Of course, some people might not have taken advantage of the resources, but water was easily accessible in advance of the show in line.
I was super impressed with how wonderful the crowd was on the ground. People sharing food, people sharing resources, making bracelets, handing out flags and masks they brought. Two of our group had flags they were handing out and so we had a steady stream of visitors to our blanket all day. Mask compliance was excellent—outside most people were wearing masks if they were moving around.
The weather was gorgeous. A balmy 55 degrees Fahrenheit is very unusual for the Northeast in February. It felt more like April.
We were allowed to buy merchandise starting at about 3 p.m. Staff escorted groups into the venue in the order of where you were in line, and then placing people back in the same order. It was a little chaotic because we didn’t know how they were going to keep us in line, but it worked. (We were blessed to hear a clip of sound check while we were inside—he was singing We Made It).
Finally, 6:30 p.m. arrived and doors opened promptly. We were in the doors and through security fast and ended up being about 4 rows deep from the barricade! Super Close. OMG.
Here’s what I hadn’t considered AT ALL. And it’s why I wanted to write this post. I had never, not once, thought about what it really meant to be “in the pit.” We were so focused on being at the barricade, we hadn’t really prepared for what would happen if we weren’t. It means you can't really bend your arms. It’s hot. People are on all sides of you. You sort of lose track of your friend really easily. People are touching you because they are TOO CLOSE. I looked up at the stage and thought “he’s going to be right there; pictures are going to be amazing!” and then I looked around again and realized it was still two hours before Louis would be on that stage. I didn’t panic per se, but I felt really uncomfortable.
I wouldn’t say it was a snap decision, but it was probably a 30 second decision. Once I got out, I knew there was no going back. But I knew without a doubt that I’d be happier for the full show if I was out of that position. I told Simone I was going, confirmed the plan for meeting up later, and had to squirm through about 4 or 5 rows of people (because the crowd was filling in behind me).
As soon as I made it into the open floor, I felt better. So maybe it was the beginning of a panic attack. I’m not sure. But another one of our group ended up making the same decision and we made our way to the second level balcony, looking down at an angle to the stage.
We ended up being at ground zero for a Larry historical moment (see link here).
If you’re here, you know that Louis Tomlinson is amazing. The show was superb. He sounded great. The band sounded great. We had a great view of the crowd. From our view from the balcony, we could see how tightly packed the floor got. I was glad I’d made the choice I did (for myself). There were a few people who had medical emergencies and who had to be taken out. Louis, in fact, stopped the show twice to make sure people were safe. Which goes to show what sort of person he is—I’m sure it’s not ideal to stop the show, but he didn’t hesitate for a second to make sure people were safe.
(Picture credit: Simone aka @tomlinson19913 on Twitter)
But here’s the thing, I see a lot of armchair quarterbacks yelling at people from across the country and the world with “make sure you hydrate” and “don’t put Louis in that position” and “be sure to take care of yourself.” The staff at the venue WERE passing back water but asking for water because you’re thirsty isn’t the same as needing water because you’re having an emergency. It’s not possible to pass back a few Dixie cups full of water to 5000 people—if you see someone in peril, best to get them out of the pit, not wait for water to maybe get passed back to them. I do wish the venue had announced what to do if you feel like you’re in trouble—best way to get the word to people is by amplification. Yelling at that size crowd does nothing.
1. People were hydrated. Once someone is having a panic attack or any medical emergency, getting out is the best solution. Get out, and then get water.
2. The people who had camped (I’d say they all made it to barricade) weren’t the people in peril. The people overheating and needing water were those filling in the back who’d arrived later in the day.
3. Mask compliance was near 100%. Masks may help diminish the spread of Covid, but masks don’t keep your core temperature down and could possibly be a factor in people overheating or hyperventilating.
I don’t like reading observations about the crowd and its behavior by people who saw a live feed. People making those observations from looking at a live feed have no idea what it’s really like in the venue. The DC crowd was incredibly well behaved—No mass pushing, no waves, no mosh dancing. Just a crowd of people enjoying the show. Remember when you’re watching a live stream, you’re not seeing the full picture. You don’t know what it was like there all day. Sometimes, even the best hydrated person is going to have a medical emergency. It’s not their fault.
I had a great time. I don’t regret for a second that I got myself into a more comfortable position. I was able to use the bathroom, I was able to get a drink, I had a comfortable place to watch the show.
Louis Tomlinson was worth the whole experience.