Once I was in, no-one had the heart to boot me out. After all, I never needed any of the hard-to-come-by complementary Plus 1 tickets. Unlike most of the band, I don't have a Civil Partner, and I've been warned not to invite any of the uncivil ones.
I had always wanted to be in a band, preferably The Jam, but back then I wasn't allowed out after 8pm, so they had to make do without ukulele solos on 'Going Underground', 'Start' (allegedly written about Qukulele's founder member), and 'Beat Surrender' (probably written about the come down after listening to too many ukulele tunes).
I can't pretend that it didn't take me years to recover from the rejection of not making it into the Spice Girls. They did say that it wasn't because I was 10 years too old, nor was it because Mace, Wormwood and Old Thyme were not quite what they were looking for. Though Frumpie Spice had plenty of mileage in comfortable shoes, they insisted it was an inappropriate use of a boob tube.
After months of pestering Girls Aloud I finally gave up. Apparently offering to change my name to Bianka Shardonay was unnecessarily tasteless tautology and even after immense work, the Shadows' dance routines were still not suitable.
Qukulele though, is absolutely the right band for me. A reliable, down to Earth, consistent group of ladies. It is a great comfort to know, that every week at least one plucker can be counted on to ask; “How do you play a B minor, again?”
Now at the pinnacle of my musical career, I can look sideways with pride at the assortment of intimate obscure theatres, fluorescent libraries, astonished audiences, and charitable congregations, for whom we have had the pleasure to strum, without the use of backing tapes.