7. Arm room is sparse. Stop putting your damn elbows all over my shit. We aren't close like that yet, although your elbow has totally been acquainted with my boob more than twice in the first song alone.

It doesn't want to be friends, and I would presume your elbow really doesn't want to either, but its owner won't stay in its box. Stay in your box. Your elbow -- and my boob -- want you to.

6. Get your damn camera/iPhone/electronic gadget out of my face. This goes hand in hand with the personal-space rule. You see, if I cannot see because you are waving a glowing electronic device -- from which all you're doing is taking a sub-par video or selfie anyway -- throughout my line of vision, or if I have to watch the show through said digital gadget because it's completely blocking any view I had, I'm inclined to grab it and accidentally drop it. Accidentally.

REWIND:

Should Cell Phones and Cameras Be Banned at Concerts?

5. On that note, don't turn around mid-concert and ask me to take a photo of you and your friends. Just, well, NO, especially mid-song. True story: this has happened on more than one occasion, and I can't help it. I morph into writer-Hulk, and I am more than likely to at least give you my resting-bitch face, if not more.

No, I will not take your photo in the middle of "Magic Man," dude. I don't care if the stage makes the best backdrop evar for your photo. However, if you continue to attempt to hand me your camera and distract me from watching the show, I will accidentally drop it, as stated above. I'm a total butterfingers.

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