The Pigeon Detectives were predictably brilliant, and the venue in Camden had a really cool raised accessible area, where myself and another wheelie ( female , about 30 ) were guided to ( round the back, through the side streets of Camden, past the addicts, past the Rasta guy playing his boombox, with 3 alcoholics of about 60 dancing to it – essential Red Stripe cans held aloft , through 2 sets of barricaded metal gates, and up a long ramp to a back door ). I’m not sure if the club is expecting a post Armageddon Zombie apocalypse attack, but they certainly seem prepared, just in case…
The reason I got the tickets ( and I had seen them play before, pre my injury ) was thus :
(2 weeks ago)
Amber : I’m going to go and see a band.
Me: oh really, who?
A: The Pigeon Detectives
Me: Really ? When ?
A: March 15th
Me: Who with?
A: My friends
Me: But where?
A: I said, London
Me: Have you got tickets ?
A : Not yet
Me: Is a parent taking you?
A ( bit shouty ) : NO
Me: I’ll go on line and look for tickets
(30 minutes later)
Me: Got 2 tickets !
A: another grunt
Me: I’ve named you as my carer, so you can give me a hand, and get a good view, and get into the club ok..
A : I’m not going with YOU!
Me : How else do you expect to get in then, with one of your little friends….?
A: Well easily
Me: Have you got false ID, then ?
A : No, but I’m NOT going with YOU!
Me : Amber, it’s in Camden, it’s a pretty rough venue, it’ll be late, and Amber… you’re 12 years old.
A: SO WHAT !!?!!?!??
So I thank Amber for the heads up that they were playing, but it was a shame that she didn’t come in the end…