008 when we went on our first US tour,
we ended up in Atlanta, GA one night. We found a disco, which looked kind of doubtful from the outside, but nevertheless we went in. (Sami Goodenough)
As we enterd the room we were confronted with an interesting scene. Left and right of the dancefloor were bars and at the end of the dancefloor an elevated DJ altar. It was ruled by this guy in his seventies wearing a posh suit, a hat and an open shirt underneath his jacket, boasting a flock of seaguls kind of hairdo on his chest. His chest hair was completed by a gold chain hanging around his neck. We were certain his wife and kids had no clue what he was doing on thursday evenings, we guessed he said he'd be going to the chess club.
At the bar left and right of the dance floor were all the girls and boys who had come for a groovy night out. They were clinging to their drinks like a climber to his rope. Soon we found out why they were doing that, on the dancefloor was one guy not much hair on his head, lots of hair on his body, a white undershirt, brown trousers and suede shoes. If in the history of dancing mankind there ever was a man who could have felt embarrassed for the way he danced, this guy would be him.
But he wasn't, he didn't give a light for what anyone thought of him or who was being hit by pearls of sweat flying from his body hair. He danced like noone was watching and inspired us greatly.