This is my favourite story to tell, ever. I love it and I’m so glad I finally have a chance to share this with my readers in full.
Motörhead are my favourite band of all time. I adore them, admire them and will always be indebted to them and their music. That’s not what this is about, though. I have written about my love for them here. This is about the time I thought all my Christmasses had come at once.
Every year, Motörhead play Glasgow in November and every year, I go. My birthday is also in November which is a happy, lovely coincidence. In 2009 though, I couldn’t afford to go. It was breaking my heart. The worst part was they were playing on my birthday in my city! It was so hard to deal with, I rarely spoke about it because I’d end up a crying mess. So the day before my birthday, I went for birthday drinks with my friend Greig and spoke to him about how upset I was, what a shame it was for me because seeing them on my birthday would be ridiculously perfect, we decided it wasn’t that bad because at least I’d seen them a silly amount of times before that and would do in the future, it was just one year of missing them.
I left Greig and started walking to the train station, on the way I fell over. I’m not joking. Flat on my face, middle of the city, fell over. When I picked myself up and got myself together, I spotted 2 men, one of whom looked very, very familiar. No. No, no, no. It couldn’t be. It was. It was Mikkey Dee. Motörhead’s drummer. One of my heroes. Walking down Buchanan Street smiling. I managed to get the balls to speak to him (because seriously, was this ever going to happen again? NOPE) and I told him, obviously that I adored his band, they truly saved me and shaped me and I couldn’t imagine who I would be without them. I told him, rather breathlessly that I loved them and it was an absolute honour- to say the least- to meet him. He laughed at me a lot; I would too, some weird chick covered in dirt from falling over with ripped tights gibbering like an idiot about her love for a band. Then, though, he said ‘are you coming to the show tomorrow?’ I explained that I couldn’t, I didn’t have the money, I was devastated because it was on my birthday and before I had the chance to carry on with my gibbering he said ‘prove it’s your birthday tomorrow and I’ll give you 2 guest passes as a gift from Motörhead. Bring a hot friend. Do you have hot friends? Bring a hot friend‘. I had my passport on me, I have a baby face so get ID’d everywhere I go. I got a free ticket.
The drummer of my favourite band gave me a ticket to their show AS A BIRTHDAY PRESENT.
Do you believe me? I wouldn’t. It happened though. It was easily one of the best moments of my life, one of the moments that made me think that life is pretty wonderful at times.
I took Gavin, he’s not a hot friend but he’s a hot boyfriend so that works, right?
Of course, the show was wonderful.
This blog post was in response to Scintilla’s prompt for today which was:
Write about an experience you had that was so strange or incredible that it sounds like it could have been made up.