I was very excited and prepared my outfit carefully: old jeans, t-shirt, boldly striped overshirt. I knew punks wore spikes and chains, but I didn't have any yet, so I asked my Mom if I could borrow some jewelry. She loaned me a few items, the only one of which I remember was a necklace made of links each about half an inch across. It could have passed for industrial if it hadn't been in fake gold.

The show was great. Total chaos of slam dancing. I loved it, but I lost track of my friend for a while. When I found him again he didn't look so good. He said he'd fallen down on the dance floor, had his head kicked and stepped on, and blacked out for a while.

He was pretty freaked out, so we left.