For those of you who don’t know, Billy Joel comes around every summer to play for all of the loyal fans who really can’t hear “We Didn’t Start the Fire” too many times. Like always, I went with my family and corn maze aficionado Stephanie to enjoy the Piano Man play my favorites live.

Sure, all of the people there who literally only know the hits decided he should play “Don’t Ask Me Why” as opposed to “All for Leyna”, but I didn’t have the time to stay bitter about that.

Nope, you’ll bet that I found something else to be bitter about.

Now, some context here — I love to dance. I’m actually a certified dance fitness instructor. So you can bet your body roll that at almost every concert I’ve been to, I’ve been on my feet the entire time. Gesticulating wildly, hips shaking crazily, screaming lyrics until I can’t speak. Yep, I’m that guy. Momma didn’t raise no concert-sitter or concert-swayer (you know, those people on their feet that are just kinda swaying and mouthing the words quietly? Yeah them. My dad is a concert-swayer — I guess the gene is recessive). No, she raised a full-out maniac.

BUT. I do believe that it’s important to stay in my own space. You paid for your seat too, and if my butt or my flailing arms are in your space, you can’t properly enjoy the concert either.

Let the record show that while I am a maniac, I am a courteous maniac.

So you’d imagine once Billy Joel got on stage, I was on my feet and prepared to be there until the end. I got up and shook what my momma gave me (while my momma was shaking what my grandmomma gave her two seats over). As always, I was overwhelmed with that spiritual feeling you get of connecting with an on-stage performer. I swear, it’s like no other.

And then from behind us, we heard, “Can you sit down?”

Record Scratch. Wait, what?

Yup! The people behind us literally started badgering us about sitting down and not dancing. At. A. Rock. Concert. In my head, the Grinch was yelling:

I’d like to take a moment here to remind everyone that I am short. I am a tiny human that takes up very little space (and continually tries to shrink down and take up even less space). And you’re telling me, that in a concert space where the seats are slanted for optimal viewing, you can’t see over my tiny, 5 foot figure? You’re telling me that you can’t see Billy Joel and the GIANT SCREENS around him because there’s a girl who can’t even reach the top shelf of the cabinets without standing on a chair standing up in front of you.

I call shenanigans.

Now, to all of you concert-sitters, I’d just like to say — you can do whatever you want, you paid to be there too. Just don’t tell me what to do. I feel like that’s pretty basic concert etiquette, to be honest. Or if you want to go to a concert where you can be 100% sure everyone will be seated, try the opera! Seriously, just go to a concert where the music is classy and/or slow enough to fall asleep to, and you and your other concert-sitting friends can revel in how great it is to stay seated through amazing music. Congratulations, you’ve found your community.

I did warn you that I was bitter…

In case you find yourself frequently sitting at rock concerts and having the urge to tell other people that they can’t dance, I have conveniently made a list of seated activities for you to enjoy instead of going to a concert:

• Knitting
• Playing Bingo (but not winning Bingo, because then, you’d probably jump up and cheer)
• Watching paint dry
• Doing a puzzle
• Contemplating life and its meaning
• Watching a documentary on beetles (no, not The Beatles, beetles. Have fun with that.)
• Sitting in one of those recliners at the mall
• Smooth Jazzercise
• Telling children to get off your lawn
• Writing down why you hate fun
• Reading my blog (because even if you annoy me, I still need followers!)

Long story short: if you’re at a concert with me and even consider telling me to sit down or to not dance, you can go back to the town in Footloose where you belong and watch the concert from your laptop because I. Am. Not. Having. It.