Homina. (Me, Nick, Greer, and Katherine)

I asked him if, now that their tour was over, they got to go back home to Scotland. He laughed in an "I wish!" kind of way, which reminded me that even with adulation and glamour, etc, it must be a pain not to be able to go home for months on end, and to be constantly travelling and meeting tiresome people such as ourselves and doing those vapid celebrity interviews everyone is so fond of.

Just before this photo, a roadie came out and asked whether he could ask us a question. Well, why not? He said, "You guys were here earlier, so I was just sort of wondering if you'd like to come backstage and have a look around, maybe meet some people. We're having a little after-party at one of the clubs, wanna come?" No, that's not really what he said. Actually, Mr. Roadie said that they had all been having some fun with the guitarist because when we had met him before the concert, his fly had been undone. Mr. Roadie wanted to know whether we had noticed. We said that no, we hadn't, but we could pretend to have. So when the guitarist emerged from the back doors, Katherine (I think) stepped up and said, "oh, I see you fixed your pants." So... we mildly embarrassed one of the band members at the behest of a crew member. I count this as a success. We have begun to refer to the incident as our "in-joke with Franz Ferdinand". Thank you, Roadie in Orange T-Shirt, for validating us.

Also: Homina. Rock star.