All Twisted and Hard.

In this life's many twists and turns I have been about a bit. Today at lunchtime I had popped out for a swift sandwich when I heard a gravelly voice with a cockney accent behind me.

You ever woke up in the mornin all twisted an 'ard...?

Now, such random foul mouthery from a stranger is normally a punching in the neck offense.

Instead though, I turned with a big smile on my face.

And the years melted away.

The new millenium had just dawned and my band was touring up the north of Scotland. We had released a single and had attracted some attention. As a result our manager had gotten us a support slot with a fairly famous Britpop band.

They had recently recruited a new singer and were touring small towns to re-connect with their fan base. Of course, we were all too eager to snaffle up such an opportunity.

Our first gig with them was in the small town of Inverness. I believe it is now a city. Which is rather comical in itself given that it is the size of a postage stamp.

The gig itself was fantastic. Hundreds of enthusiastic people bouncing around to our tunes prior to the big act themselves.

Afterward we gathered in the VIP area, our souls aflame. The drinks flowed, people crouched in corners over tables scattered with talc.

Being a younger version of my world weary self. I couldn't quite believe the band that we were sitting, snorting and cavorting with were truly famous. They were media celebrities and they didnt give a monkeys uncle who saw them snort any random thing of any random surface.

The night pressed on. Soon the action was centred in the singer of the bands rather large hotel room. Hour after hour of shameless hedonism.

Finally there were four of us left, the famous band's singer plus the guitarist, myself and John, our band's drummer. I was chewing at my own face so hard I looked like a deranged dalmation.

For a moment the world stopped whirling. The guitarist of said famous band, excused himself from the room, something about seeing someone who had a thing.

Myself and John smiled, whilst gently frothing at the mouth.

Look at us, in a hotel room with a famous singer, piles of drugs and endless mountains of booze. We have made it!

The singer looked around, then he looked at us. His breathing deepened. He grabbed his crotch intently and fixed us with a steely eyed gaze

Lads. You ever woke up in the morning, yer cock in yer 'and, all twisted and 'ard?

To demonstrate what he meant he grabbed himself tighter and twisted his crotch. He leered at us both.

Av yer? Go on, av yer?

His eyes gleamed like headlamps.

I looked at John in abject terror. He looked at me.

We ran.

Back in the present, me and John exchanged hugs, sat and laughed about our Inverness adventure. Obviously we had to confirm to each other that in all the intervening years neither of us had ever woken

all twisted an 'ard.