Don't blog that

So yesterday I wrote a short post about going with Miss P to the Doninos at Agenda in London (great venue actually, the best I have seen the band play in in the UK) It was only short because I was fighting a loosing battle with the battery on my phone.I think I might have unintentionally given you the wrong impression in my post last night. Miss P and myself are not violent people. Miss P might have threatened to glass people many many times but never to their faces and she wouldn't actually do it I'm sure.


And iv never hit anyone either. And I wouldn't. The manager of the hotel once described me as the most violent women he had ever met, but this was because he once jumped out on me when I was coming out of a lift and I kicked him hard in the shins. This was a totally reflex reaction and not my fault. I did not expect to be jumped out on. In that split second when my subconscious thought I was being attacked I revered back 100 000 years to basic 'fight or flight' reactions, and I fight. But I have never started a bar fight. Or a fight that wasn't in a bar for that matter.


So let's start from the beginning. Miss P and I had this evening planned since before we left Meribel but for one reason or another it has taken us two months to get sorted.


Yesterday however we were able to be in the same bar, at the same time as the Dominos.


When I met Miss P at Tottenham Court Road she was openly nervous and terrifically excited. We caught up on gossip on the hottest, sweatiest tube train in London and then walked in the wrong direction three times. Miss P was openly worried that as she had never seen them sober, it just wouldn't be the same and she wouldn't like them that much. I assured her that she would.


We walked into Agenda and got ID'd. This was great. I love being ID's. I'm turning 25 in five weeks and the thought that some thinks there is a possibility I might be 17 is absolutely hilarious.  The Domino's were just  setting  up. I turned to Miss P and suggested going over and saying hello. She flew past me in a panic and I just caught the words 'need make up' as she ran into the ladies toilets. Being a very pretty eighteen year old she did not need any make up and I told her so as I dragged her out of the bathroom and pushed her forward to finally say hello. 


We soon left them to plug wires into speakers and such forth and retreated to find somewhere to sit. The football was on everywhere we looked. We expected the band to start playing at 9 and then realised that they wouldn't start playing till the football finished at half past.


Miss P looked at me in horror, 'but what is they draw and then there is extra time and penalties, then the Domino's will never get on'.
'It will be fine' I reassured her, 'That only happens when England play'. And sure enough we saw Italy score two in quick succession. And we waited ages for the match to finish. It seemed like the longest game of football in history.
'Thank God there is only four minutes extra time' Miss P said, 'Just as long as Germany don't score two goals in the next four minuets we will be fine'. Just as she said this Germany scored. She looked distraught. 'What! NO!' She shouted so loudly that several people around us were convinced she was a very passionate Italy supporter.
'Calm down P it won't happen again, not in 2 minutes' I said as I hugged her to try and get her to calm down. 'Just breath P, just breath'.


Those two minutes were the longest of Miss P's life. But the game finished, Italy won, the TVs were turned off and the Dominos started. We went to dance. It was the biggest crowd that I had seen at one of their gigs since Meribel and it made me happy. They were getting a little bit of the recognition they deserved and everyone was loving it. And they played the Billionaire/Seasonaire song and dedicated it to us (well to the Seasonaires in the House but Miss P and myself having this to ourselves)


Several songs in Peter, the lead singer announced he was was going to play some real cheese. Then the instantly recognisable notes of Peter Andres 'Mysterious Girl' came out of nowhere. My eyes lit up, I smiled more than I have smiled in a long time and my head turned in slow motion to the boys who were looking at me and smiling back, knowing that it was my favourite and I have blogged about it so many times. By the end of it my voice was shot from singing so loudly.


Miss P had to shoot off to catch a train back home and I stayed for the last few songs with a friend who had come from Norway. Miss P didn't want to go and stayed much longer than she should have, 'But please can I just stay for one more song? Just one more???' Until I actually had to force her to leave, not wanting her to get stuck in Kings Cross station over night. As soon as I had seen her earlier on in the night, all the over protective feelings I had for her in the Alps came flooding back and I returned to my mother hen role.


When the set was finally over I managed to chat with Peter and Alex, the drummer. The resounding message that came out of that conversation was 'Yeah we really like your blog, but we do get worried about what you might write'. I laughed and reassured them that I would only ever write good things (not that there are any bad things to write of course!). Peter even gave me half of his Jagerbomb. I don't think he meant me to actually finish it off but out of habit I accidentally knocked it back in one (for this Peter I am very sorry and the next one is on me). It was the first one I have had since leaving Meribel and really is the taste of the Alps (I also think its the taste of medicine). They are very nice boys, everyone should hire them for parties and buy their new album when it comes out. Though throughout the evening they kept doing and saying things and then looking at me in horror and saying 'Don't blog that'. And I haven't, just as I promised.


And I didn't become their roadie, didn't offer my services in that department, didn't freak anyone out with very un-ladylike feats of strength in carrying equipment. I have to explain that the Ram Raid let me carry their stuff because they are so chilled out they are almost horizontal and just let me get on with things as long as I don't break anything. Letting me carry things is much less effort that telling me not to (they also don't read this blog!).


So that was it for another week. I have now seen the Domino's three out of the past four Thursdays. I might have to give it a rest for a couple of weeks so they don't start dreading seeing my face in the crowd.