Jenny called. Did I want to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds? I said yes because life is too short to say no – and a rock concert on a Sunday night sounded wild and reckless. Of course, my only experience of Nick Cave is sharing a sales assistant with him at JD Sports last Christmas. Oh and once I sat next to him and his squeeze in Carluccios. I had thought about dropping my croissant and striking up a conversation about the slipperiness of the leatherette seating but knowing that celebrities can be prickly, I desisted. In fact, saying this puts me in mind of the time I went to see the lovely Jon Hegley and, spying him in the pub afterwards, was so beside myself that I ran over and blurted out ‘I love you Jon’. Yes, I know but I couldn’t think of anything else to say and hysteria got the better of me. Of course, he did what any other sane person would do when confronted with a nutter – ignored me. Anyway, back to Nick. A great concert. Very loud, lots of leg kicks, groin thrusts, playing instruments while lying on the ground and growling. Most enjoyable.
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