Petersen Events Center Bag Policy
You’ve scored tickets to a big show at the Petersen Events Center. You’re buzzing, you’re ready. But first, you’ve got to survive the bag policy—a beast that has humbled even...
You’ve scored tickets to a big show at the Petersen Events Center. You’re buzzing, you’re ready. But first, you’ve got to survive the bag policy—a beast that has humbled even the most seasoned concert-goers.
Let’s be real: Petersen’s bag policy is like that friend who says “I’m fine” when they’re clearly not. It seems simple, but one wrong move and you’re in the “take it back to the car” penalty box.
The Golden Rule
Your bag cannot be larger than 14 inches by 14 inches by 6 inches. That’s roughly the size of a large textbook or a deeply ambitious lunch. Anything bigger? Nope. They’ll turn you away faster than a bad cover band.
Must Read
Forget that chic tote bag you bought on Etsy. Forget your gym duffel stuffed with optimism. If it doesn’t fit under your seat, it doesn’t fit in the building.
The Clear Bag Conspiracy
Petersen is a fan of the clear bag. They want to see every single thing you’re carrying. It’s like airport security but with more pizza smells and fewer shoes-off demands. If you bring a fuzzy, opaque purse, security will treat it like a potential squirrel nest.
Here’s a surprising fact: they actually encourage you to bring a clear plastic bag. Yes, the same type you’d use to carry a dead goldfish. Classy, but effective. You can buy one at the gate for a few bucks, but PayPal for your soul.
What You Can Actually Bring
You are allowed a small clutch—about the size of your hand, maybe a bit smaller. Think “wallet with delusions of grandeur.” If it’s bigger than a pack of gum, you’re pushing your luck. And no backpacks. Not even the cute mini ones. Not even if you promise to be nice.
Also, leave your laptop bag at home. You’re not there to work; you’re there to scream lyrics at a stranger. Embrace it.
Entrance Gates | Petersen Events Center
The Exceptions (Because Life Isn’t Fair)
Medical and diaper bags get a pass. So if you bring a baby or a life-saving device, you’re golden. But don’t try to fake it. Security guards have seen every trick. They know your “diabetes kit” is just a bag of candy. They’ve been doing this since the 90s.
One more shocker: you can bring a sealed, empty water bottle. That’s right—an empty vessel of hope. You fill it at a fountain inside, and suddenly you’re a hydration hero. This is Petersen’s secret act of mercy.
The Final Warning
If you show up with a bag that’s too big, you’ve got three options: trash it, stash it in a locker (if they have any left), or walk back to the car like a defeated penguin. The lockers are first-come, first-served, and they fill up faster than a $5 parking spot.
So here’s your plan: grab a clear plastic bag, stuff it with your phone and a credit card, and pretend you’re on a minimalist camping trip. Wear pants with deep pockets. Zipper them shut. Smile at the security guard.
Because once you’re inside, that bag policy is just a distant memory—and the music will make you forget you ever worried about how many inches your purse is allowed to be. Now go. Rock out. You’ve earned it.