I was in a small club, similar to Monsoon's Saloon in Flagstaff, Arizona. The floor was wood, and there were probably 50-60 people in the club. Toad The Wet Sprocket was on stage. It was some small, intimate, unannounced show that they had gotten back together to play.
They played a couple of numbers, then launched into a "hard" song (does Toad even HAVE a "hard" song?). Once the "hard" song started, a mosh pit formed. In the center of the mosh pit, two guys (who had shown up together) began "swordfighting" with aluminum baseball bats, in an almost dance-like choreographed movement. Everyone else seemed bothered, and finally someone (a club manager, bouncer?) told them to stop and moved them out.
The next thing I remember, there was an intermission and I was sitting at a round wooden table with some biker chick who had a stack of pictures she had drawn of the band. I sketched out a picture of the band on a napkin, and it got mixed in with the other pictures. I dug through the stack to find it, and noticed that her drawings were much better than mine. I picked up a couple of her drawings, and she said something to me like, "Hey don't steal those. I make my living off of those drawings."
The next thing I can remember is sitting with the lead singer (?) of Toad The Wet Sprocket at the bottom of a stairwell in the club. He was telling me how the intermission is usually just idle time, but here he was spending such "quality" time with a fan who really appreciated his music (I had told him how much I liked the band's material). I think he said something about that making it all worthwhile.
After the show resumed, some girl in the audience began screaming insults at the band, giving them a hard time because they weren't playing the song she wanted to hear. The crowd separated around her, almost in a perfect circle (like something in a movie). I spoke up and shouted at her, "If you had recorded an album that sold millions of copies, we would care what you have to say. Now shut up!" That is all I can remember.