It’s 1989, and I’m at a con. It’s my first con. I am, as my friends keep delightedly calling me, a con virgin. I’m listening to a girl with a guitar, because she’s interesting and also cute, in a leather jacket and leggings? Yeah, I think so, I mean, it was 1989. Here’s what she’s singing, soft but precise: “We’re elves on motorcycles—” beat, beat, “—you better get out of our way.”
That’s all I remember, because after that Tom Smith performed, and somebody challenged him to write a song about me and the cute girl and two other girls I don’t remember at all except their names were Vicki and Marie, because the refrain was “Sara, Vicki, Marie, and Maureen.”
In the song we got up to shenanigans that I also do not recall, but I was super-impressed that he came up with it so fast.