At a Russian folk metal concert I chatted with a fellow in an electric blue crushed velvet cape, while at the bar awaiting a libation.
He told me all about his Japanese sword collection, pausing every few minutes to push his shoulder length blonde hair from his face. I was trying to place his accent when he noticed my Smiths t- shirt. He seemed genuinely sadden by the fact I was not wearing it ironically. Shortly after he melted into the mosh pit, I returned to wallflower status, waiting on a friend.
What did you do last night?