Laurie Anderson Morning.
So there I was, in London. In Black-and-White.
I was in the World's End bar in Camden Town-- a site that was in my mind because it was one of my favorite bars when I was over there for school, and a friend of mine is in London taking classes for work at the moment, so I was giving her directions through Camden.
The bar was a different bar inside, though- it looked like one of the lounges at the Excalibur Casino in Vegas. This was of course, completely within expectations. Up on the stage was a performer: Jack Fairy from Velvet Goldmine, I don't remember what he was singing, but he was working with Placebo as far as I could tell (as in the film). And I'm sort of looking over my shoulder at them as I swigged a Guinness.
Sitting next to me is this sort of weary-looking slim guy in a pinstripe suit, who is obviously too drunk to lift his head; I can just see the mess of his hair. He says, suddenly, "Love this band, don't you?" as he looks up, and reveals himself to be David Bowie.
Turned out, in conversation, that he had put together this little concert at the World's End. To what end, I still don't know. But he was there, enjoying the fruits of this labor, and had gotten completely to-the-tits drunk. Wound up hanging off my shoulders by one arm, laughing his ass off, just outright indecorously sauced.
So he asked me to drive him home. I pointed out I hadn't driven in London in years, and he'd have to play navigator. "Alright then." And off we went to this big black car rather like a Black Maria-- which I drove through the streets of London, in this weird sort of flashy sequence that kept coming back to Bowie laughing hysterically or going "no no LEFT! Not Right! Ahahaahah!'
On reflection, the whole thing looked like the video to Absolute Beginners. And I woke up and said to myself "good grief. Good to see I have an iconography laid out in my head."