Either way you're wrong
First Morrissey gig I went to, I was crammed up against a stinky bloke and thought it couldn't get worse. Until a big punch-up broke out behind me and security dived in, trapping me against the barrier, unable to move, with my face pressed into a bouncer's wet armpit.
We must be bloody mad, doing this!
And you lived to tell the tale. Well done you!
Do you think it might be worth bringing some cans of anti-perspirant along so we can surreptitiously squirt anyone whose pong offends our delicate noses?