Bitchin Camero!

Here's a blast from my past, not sure what brought it up!

Remember that song? Bitchin Camero? "Bitchin Camero, Bitchin Camero, I ran over my neighbor!"

Well, for those uninitiated, the song is a treasured one from the catalog of the Dead Milkmen. In 1994 I went to see one of the last shows performed by the Dead Milkmen at the Trocodero in Philadephia. The Troc used to be a burlesque club but at the time I visited had become a venue for concerts.

Being at the height of my youth and feeling the music, I joined my fellow, frenzied friends in the mosh pit for a bit of slam dancing when my ears heard the above refrain begin.

Back in the day, I was a looker. I had a skin tight, white tank top and tight jeans on and was gyrating and slamming around with the best of them. I heard a loud smack but thought nothing of it until a girl in front of me turned around, looked at me and screamed.

Seems someone thought a beach ball was not enough and a better object to toss would be a wooden clog. Yes, a wooden farookin shoe! Well, said shoe made contact with my temple which split like the waters parted by Moses. My white tank was red and I was beginning to feel dizzy.

Being slightly unhygenic, the Troc had no first aid supplies at all. So a large bouncer lifted me with one arm and deposited me behind the bar. As the bleeding would not cease, I decided that the best course of action was to tape a bar napkin to my face! With scotch tape no less! Of course I was several beers into my buzz and probably had quite the contact high so my thinking wasn't necessarily tip top. Anyway, I taped my face shut, washed the excess blood away and decided that a good night had yet to be had and rejoined my compatriots on the dance floor to slam around to "Punk Rock Girl."

The moral of the story? Never underestimate the power of the bar napkin and scotch tape!

My friends made me go to the emergency room where my care was interrupted by a multi-car accident. My friends passed the time watching a Kids in the Hall marathon while I slumbered in a beer and blood-loss induced sleep.

The scar above my eye reminds me of that night. It twiches when I am stressed. I suppose what brought this memory to mind was that movie Clueless with Alicia Silverstone wherein a young Brittney Murphy gets smacked in the head with a shoe at a party . . .

Anyway, thought I'd share an embarassing moment from my past for kicks. Toodles!