When I was a student, I knew a bunch of guys in a University band which had quite a big following (called "Contagious"!) They got through to the grand finals of the band comp, and because they knew I played sax, they asked me to play with them to add some zing to their gig.

We practiced hard. We sounded great. There was no way we could fail.

On the evening of the gig, we were standing about having a drink, when a girl from my old school sauntered up and, as was her want, was flirty flirty with all the guys. Then she looked me up and down and said "Are you their groupie or their roadie?" I just smiled sweetly and thought to myself "I'll show you, darling".

The band started playing, the crowd went wild. It came my turn to jump on stage and play a wailing sax solo. I took a breath and put the instrument to my mouth. NOTHING came out. Not a goddam thing!! Something had happened - maybe a spring came unsprung or something - and the whole instrument refused to play a note.

Mortified? Yes. Death? Yes. Escape to the toilets to cry? Yes!

The guys were all very nice about it afterwards. They won the grand final and included me in all the post-gig celebrations.

I thought it was the end of my 'career' as a musician!! Bad luck - I'm still here!!

--callie