Whales and Dolphins, Whales and Dolphins
Donington Park, 1994.

I've spent the day pissed up on vodka and Guinness (happy days), and I'm now stood in front of the main stage, waiting for Aerosmith to appear, swaying gently from side to side. At which point, some bloke with a lovely brown leather jacket (ouch) and nice hair (let's face it, he was a weekend rocker) appears in front of me, and spends ten minutes telling me how great my band is, we're the best thing he's ever seen, etc etc. I'm still so pissed, I can barely speak, and have no idea who he thinks I am. It eventually dawns on me that he thinks that I'm the drummer in Terrorvision. Nice. I lean forward, shake his hand without uttering a word, and he wanders off, happy in the knowledge that he's met one of his heroes.

Fast forward several months...

In a club in Birmingham, and I'm being chatted up by a bit of a boiler. I'm throwing despairing glances at my mates, who are collapsing with laughter at my dire situation. One of them finally takes pity, strolls past, does a major double-take, and shouts "Aren't you the drummer in Terrorvision?"

The girl's jaw hits the floor, and I take the opportunity to scarper - fast.
(Steve The Monkey, Fri 1 Jun 2007, 14:44, Reply)