"With the Wind at Our Backs..."

New Years Eve 1997. I was a bloated long hair clad in a tie-dyed shirt worn hopelessly over a beige cable knit sweater. Stumbling the streets of Worcester, MA my posse and I encountered a large, obscenely drunken man. He had been jestisoned onto the pavement in front of us via an even larger bouncer. Me and the other Phishheads were horrified in that condescending Holden Caulfield type way. The man got up, looked into our eyes, took his shirt off, flexed, and started screaming "Who wants to shake the room?" We were stunned. It took me more than ten years to answer this question, but I think I got it. B.O. brings it. Again.