Last night I was standing outside of a big arena. The Rolling Stones were playing, and Dirty Pretty Things were their support act. I was going to listen to the concert from outside. Suddenly, Carl Barat runs out of the arena and over to me.
"Hiya," he says. He looks relieved to have found me. "Oh, hello Carl," I say. As you can tell, we've known each other for a long time.
"You can play bass guitar, can't you?" he asks. I can't. "Yes, I can," I say.
Carl explains: "Didz (the bassist of Dirty Pretty Things) fell over today - he tripped over some equipment, the plank. Now he's broken his arm and we're short of a bassist. Do you think you could fill in for him?"
"Sure!" I say, apparently oblivious to the fact that I can't play bass guitar and I'm about to make a fool of myself in front of thousands of Stones fans.
So, we go round to the back of the venue, I'm snuck in (because I don't have a pass, y'see), and eventually I'm on stage with the band. I'm on STAGE! With, THE BAND! Well, not The Band... they're these guys:
I was with THIS BAND!
We played through pretty much the entire album, and a couple of Libertines classics as well. I sung 'Death On The Stairs', with Carl. The audience loved us.
Then, our time was up, and we had to come offstage. We watched the Rolling Stones from the sideline. They were brilliant! Didz came and joined us with his plaster cast. "Stupid plank," we all muttered, but Didz didn't mind because he had got all his friends to sign the cast which he was very impressed with.
What a good night.
And don't tell me that it was just a dream, like everyone else is saying. IT REALLY HAPPENED, I TELLSYA!