How did I end up at a Nazi show last night?

Don't ask me how this happened really. I went to go see what I thought was a metal show last night at Tantogården, which does usually hold metal shows (flyer to the left). Someone told me that Månegarm was a good metal band. So, I went.

Arriving there, I noticed something was a bit off. There were a few too many shaved heads for a metal show, if you know what I mean (if you live in Stockholm, then you know what I mean). I sorta blew it off, but the whole atmosphere was giving me a strange vibe. I thought "no, I'm just being paranoid" (I've been called that before, so it was nothing my brain couldn't justify).

But waiting to order at the bar, I got shoved out of the way by a shaved head. I squeezed my way next to him and said (in English), "Hey, that was pretty rude. Are you really that desperate to get drunk?" To which he replied yes. Then (and this was the strange part), he asked me what "race" I was. Usually (even in Sweden, with the Swedes broken but lovely English) when people want to know what my ethnic background is, they ask "Where are you from?" (or something similarly benign). But this was a strange way of asking. Then I had this Flashback™ (more on that later). I turned and said "Excuse me? Does it matter?". He of course replied with a yes. To which I replied "Well then, I won't tell you." (Hey, I think if you're gonna call yourself a good nazi, you should at least be able to pick out the whiteys from the non-whiteys). I walked off with my drinks (which I ended up getting before him anyhow), clearly mumbling some fuck yous and blew that guy off too - because - to be honest, racism in Sweden is quite common and outspoken.

Fast forward to later in the night when Månegarm starts to play, and I turn to see him and all of his friends sig heiling to the band. And the band didn't seem to mind! Fuck that. I was outta there! Gave me Flashbacks™ to when I got a wooden bar stool broken over my head by a bunch of nazis in DC who thought I was a gypsy. 10 stitches and a badly-healed lump on my head later, I wasn't about to get into another brawl. At least not at a bar with metal bar stools.

\m/
-p2