At the Chuck Ragan gig in Newport last night (pretty good on the whole, long set that dragged a little but feisty in the right places), a friend and I got into a very trivial debate. I'll spare you the finer details, but it was about a stone wall in the club which seemed to me to be a genuine exterior wall that had been built into the club, though my friend reckoned it was a fake facade made of plaster, blah blah blah.
Amyway, eventually, we went outside to see if we could tell from the exterior if the building might've once had a wall like that (in the cold light of day, this all seems a little childish).
As we stood looking up and debating the point (no evidence found, by the way), we noticed a beared chap in a baseball cap was stood next to us, following our gaze in some bemusement.
"The wall", I said, "in the club. We can't work out if it's real or not".
I turned to look at him, and at this point, realised it was Chuck Ragan.
"No," he said. "I wouldn't think so."
Looking at me like I was a complete idiot, he went back to his cigarette, exchanging looks with his band that suggested the standards in his audience quality had slipped somewhat.
So, I felt like a berk. And I still don't know if the wall if real.
How have you embarrassed yourself in front of a rockstar?