Say you’ve gone out to see a gig in a new town. You’ve arrived early, as is your custom, but already people are crowding the couches and milling in bunches. You don’t know any of these people. Your legs lock as you stand at the threshold, scanning for somewhere unobtrusive to sit.
Twenty minutes crawl by. A prime table up front, the book you brought, and the beverage you’re nursing (I can’t order your drink for ya, geez) have done nothing to calm your jittery nerves. Two guys and a girl set up on stage, cutting up and joking with each other.
So they begin. And they start with this:
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