In 1979, at the second touring-band gig I had ever attended, I spent the whole gig crushed against the stage directly in front of Algy and his blasting natural-finish Fender P, thinking it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.
This definitely had an impact on my choice of a natural finish P-copy (Satellite!) to learn on when I started playing bass not too long after.
Thanks Algy.
The gig was at the local university and was meant for the students, but lots of us local kids had blagged our way in.
Before the Damned started, I had wormed my way to the front of the packed bar queue, to be confronted by an intimidatingly mature (student-aged!) barman.
Not wanting to push my luck too far, I squeaked "A... half of lager, please".
He glared at my blatantly underaged visage and growled "This is a punk rock gig. You'll have a pint or you'll have nothing."
"Er... ok... a... pint of lager, please" I squeaked back.
He served me and I fled, victory pint in hand.