Fortunately, after all the unintentional cock-play, he found what he had really been looking for. What had bounced out so spectacularly was now resting dimly by the drain. His hands went in without a moment's thought as I waited for the punters to turn really nasty. After all, they weren't exactly in town that night for some weird vogueing below their bollocks.
But all the dark stares were replaced by total disbelief when my friend put the lens back in unwashed. And then there was his tour-de-force - a sudden skid at the exit and a lightning reaction that just stopped him from landing tits upwards. I scarpered. I can't even remember what band was playing that night and, even in nightmares, I find it hard to see them.
But I guess that I generally think of them as bathed in yellow and in my mind they have black eyes for some reason. There is a lot of jerky movement and much falling about in the confusion - and, well, what could all that be I have to wonder? Fuck me, I think they are doing a one-eyed dick-weave dance - let me out of here at this point - let me out. Of course, we used to go to a lot of gigs then but since my illness I've not got out very often.