After the gig it was bedlam outside, with the punks getting hammered left, right, and center. We flagged down a passing cop car and asked for help getting past these lunatics and the copper said, “Run behind the van and we’ll escort you to your cars.” We all trooped behind, but as he set off he put his foot right down and sped off—leaving us at the mercy of the mob. The bastard. Luckily Terry’s car was nearby so we dived in and escaped.
