Sitting near the stage at Devil’s Point, Jenn was describing her bicycle accident, a run-in with a car that resulted in a trashed bike and seven staples in her scalp. Owie.
So engrossed in the story and its telling, we were ignoring the stage show.
Suddenly, Ivizia stopped twirling the flaming bolos which were on actual fire and called us out. “Hey,” she projected from the stage over the pounding music, “whatcha talking about?”
Startled, Jenn and I looked up, then, almost as one, we both pointed at the topic of conversation and shouted “Her/My head!”
Ivizia was enough of a showwoman to smile and go on with the fire dancing, having successfully restored the attention where it belonged.