On Being a Groupie, Tra-la-la

Well, dear readers, I have just agreed to travel to NYC with Joyce Frances in a couple of weekends, to see Gogol Bordello play for a second time. I VERY much enjoyed Boston's show but it was apparently very tame compared to what you see in NYC. JF told me when they started playing at the show she saw there, the floor started shaking, and as she didn't have the energy to keep up with the crowd in the mosh pit, she was squirted safely out the side. Without taking a step, mind you.

I got within four feet of the stage on Thursday and while I wasn't such a big fan of having white girl dreads scratch my face or smelling someone's obnoxious farts, I was surprisingly OK with sweating copiously, and being pressed against other people, some of them shirtless, who were doing the same. When people fell over, they were picked up, and everyone was jolly. At the end, one of the band members leapt into the crowd and we passed him around on our outstretched hands. Someone in the audience said "OK, send him back up front," and "Great job, team!" And I honestly have to say I felt proud for my contribution. It was cute, and dorky.

The only thing missing for me was someone else to dance with, but alas, one cannot have everything.