I was at a Betchadupa gig a couple years back
I was shuffling towards the door to escape the horrid support band, pushing my way through the densely-packed crowd, when some bastard decides to stop and have a chat on his way out the door. The whole crowd of people shuffling towards the door are suddenly packed in like sardines. I look up and see that the lovely gentleman I'm squashed up against is none other than Neil Finn, of Crowded House fame. I gave a faint smile of recognition, and he gave a faint smile back. I managed to blurt something really suave like "you're cool!", and he gave a weak "uh... thanks".

This would have been all good and well except that our faces were only a couple of inches apart, and the line didn't start moving again for quite some time. I stood there being man-sandwiched against one of my musical heroes, and yet somehow it wasn't a pleasant experience.

Length? At least two long, awkward minutes before I managed to find a gap in the crowd and get the hell out of there.
(gdp, Wed 14 Oct 2009, 12:54, Reply)