Yesterday, I took a 70’s spin class.

I was peddling furiously while standing in place and Saturday Night, the huge #1 hit, by the teen sensation, Bay City Rollers, started playing.

I had a flashback that rocked my Peloton.

As I recall one of my groups opened for The Bay City Rollers.

A band member and I became  buddies.

He would call frequently from the road…oh, the days of limited communication before texting and email.

It happened that my BC Roller was in Los Angeles and asked me to dinner.

Always being the publicist and restaurant guru, I made a reservation at the trendy Nick’s Fish Market in Century City.

He insisted on picking me up.

I figured it was going to be an informal night of music and PR chatter.

In the olden days when you still dressed up even in LaLaLand for a night out at a lovely restaurant I did the New York thing and wore my classic little black dress which I zhujhed up with tasteful jewelry and a pair of Maud Frizon shoes…I clearly remember the shoes and no recollection of what I ate.

The teenage heart throb knocked on my door wearing a satin wide stripped baby blue tuxedo and held a huge bouquet of long stem red roses.

The limo awaited.

Our entrance into the she-she-la-la restaurant turned heads.

Not only was the band huge, but his outfit definitely caused a commotion.

Settling down and may I add the host seated us in the middle of the restaurant, I was under the impression that we were friends, but the evening proved otherwise.

Over an opening gambit of scotch on the rocks he pledged his intentions.

I often marveled how rockers of slender build and flowing locks who I could pick up to kiss goodnight fell for me when my professional persona was always on display.

The age old adage rings true…men always want what they cannot have.

The friendship petered out rather quickly after I apparently crushed his tartan plaid heart.

I smile when I look back on bringing a Scottish teenage pop sensation home to Queen E. and Mo.

It’s only rock ‘n roll to me.

Photo:Thoroldnews.com