Irrenhouse: Stage première of the surprise guest

or: Every third Saturday it’s getting hot in the birthday club

Before writing about that unbelievable evening last Saturday with maybe the best Rock’n’Roll Freak Circus, I’d like to talk about a real première. It took me four long years until my “hobby” brought me on stage of the “Irrenhouse” … Another song by the unbelievable Nancy Sinatra made it possible for me this time to stand in front of the camera and not behind. This alone was not very exciting, but the fact that it was the “Irrenhouse”, the place where the whole trip started,  this made me a little sentimental. I was asked at least eight times if I was nervous … hum … to be honest, and it shouldn’t sound well-worn … no, I was very pleased, because firstly I saved the long way to the entrance as I was allowed to use the parking lot of the birthday club … and secondly I had the pleasure to watch all the chicks in the backstage area. I say it this way … it really crackled! And that wasn’t the glass on the floor.

© and more photos at lautundspitz.de

While SuperZandy was learning the lyrics to manage his live performance without getting stuck, Stella was drivelling about trash travesty … and Nina was enjoying the numerous queens in the “Irrenhouse”. But honestly! Had there arrived a full bus? From Transsilvania or Mecklenburg-Vorpommern? *lol* There were so many men dressed-up in the “Irrenhouse” … from rather terrible to really great. Those present should judge. Back to stage. While Nina was fixing the order and offering me a happy medium, I was asking myself if they had also stolen a truckload of Dutch cheese and old tulips from the last “Green Week”.*lol* … Men, there was lying something … and just this evening the Number One on the backstage was missing… No wonder that it wasn’t tidied up there.*lol* No, the substitute was attentive, too!!

Then the show started. And for the first time after 23 years I wasn’t standing in front of the stage to press my cam into the performer’s faces. This time I was offered a radio play. That was something … however, with a drop of bitterness, but I had my student trainee Janka Kroft fighting at the front and raising her arms, of course at the risk of her life. Because in the first row you have a better view, but there are rough customs. Nina hasn’t still complied with my wish for a press lounge … *grin* It doesn’t matter. So I was listening carefully standing behind the door when suddenly it was opened abruptly. I broke my elbow which had to be put in a splint … fire service, ambulance, the CID – the whole programme. Finish.

*lol* … No,  of course not. A showgirl doesn’t know any pain. So I hurried to the stage and … hm … in contrast to the roadrunners two hours ago, there was the crowd which didn’t really want to move out of the way. Super! I was listening to the presentation and was waiting for my name and … nothing. Surprise guest. That’s my name from now on. Simply surprise guest. Hey,  if that’s not an individual travesty name! That goes always and everywhere. It doesn’t matter whether  I’m shouting the national anthem in front of 100,000 people in the football stadium or whether I’m stretching out on Stefan Raab’s guest sofa … I can always be presented as a surprise guest. That’s great, isn’t it? I’m even thinking about reserving the domain *lol* …

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Nevertheless, years ago I wrote that names don’t mean anything … so, maybe next time. Besides, the “Irrenhouse” does have a problem with glass … I don’t know whether the party of tourists threw away their empty glasses deliberately due to their neighbourhood with the Eastern bloc, but the floor was covered completely with broken pieces. I already know what to do for the next “Irrenhouse”: a Bollywood stage dancer … dancing on broken pieces. *lol*

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