"Someone's pulled out at the last minute, and the guvn'r wants to know if we can step in" said Chris on the phone last Thursday.
"Tell Mr Eavis we'll be there! Is it the Pyramid Stage or the other one?"
"It's the Dursley Arms in Trowbridge."
"Oh."
Well, a gig's a gig... as it turned out, a jolly fine one too - lots of room to play with and a small but enthusiastic bunch of locals who actually listened, and by all accounts loved it; one chap came up afterwards and told me "That was the best bass I've ever heard in here!" What a nice man - either that or he doesn't get out much.
Nick also made an impression - another gent asked him if he was married; apparently "a friend asked me to ask you." Yes mate, a friend - of course it was...
Even Ruth was looking revived by the end of the night - no mean feat, as she was by her own account "Perrified"- a condition brought about by excessive consumption of pear cider the night before. Apparently it had 'ectoplasm' in it, which probably didn't help.
And at the end of the night, we didn't even get our boots muddy - who needs Glastonbury anyway?
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