This was the first night of my new company car. I took the old one to the man and got a new one. It's identical in colour, model, everything. The only main differences are that it looks cleaner, smells fresher, has a different number plate, about 19000 fewer miles on the clock, and the little buttons for the cruise control click with a slightly different feel.
This was also a time when we were doing some critical testing of a system at Heathrow. This put me in a good vantage point to tackle the various roads leading to Liverpool.
As it happens, I made pretty good time, arriving near the start of the gig. It was to be a hard gig to play. A few people in a very large room. However, it was a student gig, which means that if you played it right you could use their energy. I set up my strategy. I would hit the stage hard - loads of energy - and make myself as amused as possible. Stupidly, I didn't record the gig, assuming that I'd crash and burn before my allotted 25-40 minutes were up. I was given quite a good range of times to fill.
As it happens, though there were occasional haiatuses in the amusement, and though I played the gig disgustingly self-indulgently, I breezed through nearly 40 minutes without really losing the room - they were getting tired and I got off the stage before they were totally sick of me. It was a closing set, so I think I gave them something akin to an end to the show.
I did some silly things, mind. I did "the emergency jaunty jump", which, after setting up, caused me to deliver a very high kicking heel click, which must have been fueled partly by adrenaline as well as my recently discovered (taught) stepping-over technique.
As gigs go, I had a good time and people were nice to me after. That's really what it's all about.