Girls Girls Girls...

You know that there are some very dark forces against you when your local pub is pulled down and replaced by a McDonald's restaurant, and, as implausible and unlikely as that scenario might seem, that's exactly what happened to me once.

Well, it could surely never happen twice...

It was over fifteen years ago now, but it still seems like yesterday, sometimes, that my friends and I would go along every Friday and Saturday night with our fake ID's and the intent of fooling the Bouncer Brothers at the door that we were really over eighteen, and that we had every right to be in there with all the other piss-pots. We used to say we were nineteen if anyone quizzed us, though I'm not too sure of the reasoning behind that logic now.

The first time that I went to the pub I somehow got my Mother to believe that there was an Alcohol-free school function being held there, and that our teacher's had expressly asked that we be in attendance, and even though I don't think for one minute she ever really swallowed that particular lie I still, somehow, got to go. After that, I didn't bother with trying to con her or with obtaining permission to go out.

My friends and I would arrive early so we could get a table close to the dance floor, war paint on, teetering on our half-size too small stilletos. We would buy five drink tickets at the door for ten dollars, which was more than enough in those days to get us good and drunk and on the hunt for men. Those were my only objectives. Some people went for the music and bands or just to get out and dance, but not me...

My friends, Bbbb, who I've told you plenty about somewhere else, and Dano, who I'm
introducing to you now, were my two best friends at High School, especially towards the end when we all dropped out half-way through year eleven together. Dano, her nick-name naturally, was the eldest. She enjoyed nine whole days of being able to get into the pub hassle-free before Bbbb could, while I had to wait another agonising three months after that until it was my turn. It's only beginning to be funny now that we're all getting older.

I don't mind being the youngest anymore, but there was that awful time when I got banned from the pub for the final six weeks leading up to my eighteenth birthday and both my friends were 'legal' and could still go- after theBrothers finally realised I was still only seventeen thanks to the Bouncer's sister, Pebbles- who had gone through school with my older Sister and so knew roughly how old I was. She got the shits at me because she thought her boyfriend was chatting me up. That's what it had to be- but nothing had even happened for her to get so shitty as to dob me in for being underage. Aside from the fact I wasn't at all interested in her boyfriend, it wouldn't have been worth it to go up against Pebble. For a start she looked really strong...

But I suppose I was probably only wearing a black bra under Dano's leather jacket that I always borrowed, and would have been wearing a tiny scrap of material as a mini-skirt, which Dano's mother, unimpressed by their lack of substance, called our Dish-rags; so I probably deserved all the negative attention from guys that I received. Sorry Pebbles; but I wasn't after him at all.

We all owned at least one of those skirts- we bought them at Silhouette in the Mall before they closed it down. Well, I bought mine; it cost me six dollars from memory- but I'm pretty certain that Dano flogged hers. I don't know why when she got more pocket money than me snd Bbbb put together- she could always afford new music magazines and all the latest albums. Her favourite band was Guns 'N Roses, and she avidly collected anything and everything to do with them. She even got a black electric guitar and amp for her sixteenth birthday so she could learn how to play Sweet Child 'O Mine exactly like Slash.

Not that she liked him- he 'belonged' to Nic- another friend of mine who I've since lost. Dano had the hots for Axl, while Bbbb got relegated Duff, the doughy-looking bassist. I preferred Motley Crue, though, and Vince Neill, who I probably would have had a crack at (if I'd ever met him) -and if I hadn't been a scared little virgin still.

When Dano moved to our Town, when we were all in year nine, she had already been to see Bon Jovi and Guns and Roses in concert the year before. She told us how she had nearly been crushed on the dance floor in the moshpit but that it was all so worth it when Axl had seemingly sung straight to her. The following year- after I had been converted to 'heavy' metal, we saw Skid Row and Motley Crue when they toured, and spent hours making a huge banner in Dano's garage to take along.

We used one of her mother's 'old' sheridan sheets, and made a replica of the album cover for Dr Feelgood, using heaps of lime-green paint. It was pretty fucking awesome actually; we wrote some poetic slogan underneath the dagger and skulls- You Kickstart Our Hearts- I think it said- and we planned to leave it on stage for the band after the concert had ended because- after lining up at four in the morning- we had also secured tickets for the moshpit for this concert- my first one ever at the Entertainment Centre.

The big day finally arrived, and while Dano and I got tipsy on the train Bbbb got driven down in her Dad's station wagon. She was especially mortified when he was still there at the end of the concert to pick her up again- especially as she had sort of secured the interest of a Long-haired Looker, a contradiction in terms if you ask me. I like Short Hairs- but that's just me...

We all got seperated fairly early on, just after my new camera got confiscated by some buff security guard during tommy Lee's drum solo in Girls Girls Girls. He was looking pretty damn hot as he twirled his sticks around his sweaty head- and then I remember the crowd suddenly surging forward and some really big boofheads pressing into me from all sides until I thought my lungs were going to pop from the pressure. I yell in some bloke's ear to get me out of there and he lifts me up over the top of the crowd, trying to slip a finger into my pussy as he does so. Luckily for me he missed out- but only by a mere inch or so I reckon- but it still scared the shit out of me.

The security guard practically pulls me out of my new black skintight dress that I had bought especially for the occasion, so that it is now somewhere up above my bare breasts. That's bad enough- but at that Exact moment the song finishes and the stadium lights come on, just as I go over the barrier with my worst baby-blue undies that I've ever owned flashing the adoring crowd...

I Swear that the whole audience, about fifteen thousand metal-heads, stood up and cheered, but only those people who know me best would know that was absolutely one one of the worst moments of my Life. You can't get any more centre of attention than that.

I didn't find my friends until after the concert ended because I didn't dare venture back near the front of the stage after what had just happened. Instead I met a boy up the back of the dance-floor and pashed him a while instead.

When the concert was over I took the banner that we had slaved on for so long and placed it up onto the stage- just as we had planned. I watched for just long enough to see one of the band's roadies, or some arsehole stage-hand, pick it up and throw it straight into a large green garbage bag. He didn't even unfold it. I didn't tell the other's that though; I like to think that I saved them from that little trauma...

The next day when I was at the shop buying cigarettes a guy happened to mention my new Motley Crue tour t-shirt. He said he'd been at the concert too, and wasn't it so fucking funny when that chick almost got stripped out of her clothes when she got pulled out of the crowd. I didn't bother telling him that he'd just met her. I doubt that he would have believed me anyway.

For some reason he thought she was really hot.