So, you’ve finally scored those tickets (thanks, student finance) and now you’re poring over stage times, hunting for the tent pegs (where do they go over the winter?) and selecting the perfect pair of Primark shades to compliment your wellies. Think you’re ready for that ultimate festival experience?
Every year, literally thousands of music fans find their summers are let down by the embarrassment of bad festival sex. Fortunately for you, after painstaking research I have compiled this useful guide to recognizing and avoiding the encounters you’ll be glad you didn’t have.
You meet her at one of the smaller stages where she keeps trying to get the attention of the bands or persuade a security guard to let her backstage. She keeps checking her phone and when you ask if she’s okay she’ll tell you “Oh, I had to leave the kids with their dad” and pull a face. You’ll share a Marlboro between bands and end up against the barrier sucking face during Mastodon or Napalm Death. You’ll soon find yourself back at her tent, because it’s near and she’s got half a bottle of tequila waiting.
This is no time to be dignified. If you don’t come to your senses and scare her off fast you’re going to find yourself engaged in the most depressing sex of your life. She’s liable to burst into tears at any moment now that the excitement of the day is wearing off, and you’ve realised you forgot to put a condom in your wallet because you’re an idiot. There are no good consequences on offer, so get out of there with a simple “is that really the time? I promised I’d call my mum every night” – trust me, it’s for the best.
You’re just emerging from the acoustic tent after Ed Sheeran or Frank Turner or whoever it is you have that poster of. He’s wearing white sunglasses as are all five of his mates. You’re both headed to the bar where he buys you a cider and tells you that you look just like Zooey Deschanel. His friends have stayed within a close enough distance that the shouts of “Go on Dave!” and giving the thumbs up is difficult to ignore.
Five minutes of awkward humping while Dave’s friends stand around the tent giggling isn’t your idea of a good time. Tell him you’ve got to dash – you’re really looking forward to Brand New but thanks for the drink. He’ll be gutted: according to the rules they devised on the coach up here, it’ll now be his round and the lads all want doubles. With any luck, you’ll be gone before he remembers that Brand New actually played yesterday.
It’s 2am on Sunday night. Your friends went hunting for hotdogs but probably ended up at the silent disco or in the other campsite listening to that long haired guy with the guitar singing Radiohead songs. There’s no chance you’ll find them. The couple that you heard at it last night in the tent next to yours just got back and they’re inviting you in for a smoke and a beer.
You’ll sit next to her while he hunts around for something that’ll do for a roach. They’ll tell you about how it’s their first time at this festival but they’ve been to Creamfields every year since they met. She’ll put her hand on your thigh while he empties a Fosters can to use as an ashtray. You can see where this one is headed.
Pretend to answer your phone. Say “Laura? Everything alright? He did what? I’ll be right there!” and then get out of that tent before anyone can say “but we brought pills!” You’ve saved yourself a nasty hangover and a trip to the GUM clinic. Reward yourself with one of those fancy ice creams they’re selling out of that camper van near the entrance.
You never know which of these situations you could find yourself in this Summer, so be sure to keep note of our oh-so-smooth escape tips to keep tears and tantrums to a minimum.