As the Fillmore only opened last Thursday, the staff are all being extra courteous. They even have ushers outside the bogs holding the doors open for you (though no one said, “Have a nice pee.”). When I came out of the loo, I was browsing the concert posters on the walls, when one of the ushers pointed at my knees with a seriously amazed look on her face. I looked down, expecting at the very least to see a three-headed serpent emerging from my knee cap.
“You’ve… you’ve got such… bowed legs!” she exclaimed.
I laughed and said I’d had them quite a while, and that I was the last of the great British cowboys.
“But... but, they’re great,” she said. “I love them!”
“You love them?”