At this point, Greer and Katherine wanted to go home, because (poor excuse!) they thought they were going to be sick. But I wanted to stay, and so they were brave and waited, and did not, in fact, puke. There were not too many people around the back of the venue, and we were (I am proud to say) among the oldest and the coolest. So we sat about for about half an hour, slowly getting chilly and punchy. We saw two white vans go by and prayed that they did not contain Franz Ferdinand. Some woman working at the place came out and said in an exaggerated kind of voice, "I don't know what you-all are waiting around for! Show's over, folks!" I knew that she was lying because the universe is just not cruel enough to let someone with that kind of dim, bossy demeanour actually be right.

Then, glory be! About 11:35, Paul the drummer came out. We got his autograph but, being starstruck, didn't ask for a photo. After that, there was no way Greer wanted to leave, and sure enough, the rest of the band came out one by one and we had a bit of a chat where nobody fainted from the rock'n'roll. Thus begins my career as a groupie.