Last weekend the Winged Monkey scored free tickets to Assassination City Roller Derby.

Yep. You read that right: Roller. Derby.

Only my boyfriend would be friends with someone who referees amateur female flat-track roller derby. So, this is how I found myself spending last Saturday night in Fair Park Coliseum (a venue reserved for livestock shows the majority of the year) watching a myriad of overly-tattooed women skating in circles around a duct-tape-delineated track. Watching with five men in their 40's.

Now I could spend the rest of the week sharing the inappropriate comments that will spout from the beer-laden minds of men watching women on roller skates, but none of those are really all that original or surprising to any woman who has had any contact with any male over the age of 12.

What was surprising was the following:

After watching my companions spend the first hour of the evening drooling over the fishnet-clad members of the Bombshell Brigade manning the souvenir booth and the concession stand, we moved inside the arena and found some seats just in time to watch the introductions of the first two teams. Introductions set to music, of course. I can't remember what the first team skated in to, and I'm sure that may be a disappointment to those looking for details. But how could I be expected to remember anything after the second team skated in to Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart...and one of the guys I'm with...reaches in his wallet...and proudly pulls out...a crib sheet style printout of the lyrics?

Yep. Smart, good looking single guy. Mid-40's. Good job. Bonnie Tyler lyrics in his wallet.

There followed a good 10 seconds of silence among the group. Because what is the proper response when a man shows you his Bonnie Tyler?

Because, according to D, some days you really need a little Bonnie Tyler.

Apparently the proper response is an all-purpose "What the f%*#, Dude?" followed by uncontrollable laughter.

It seems that about 4 years ago, our friend D had been at a happy hour, and Bonnie Tyler's classic Total Eclipse of the Heart had been playing, and no one knew all of the lyrics. D, boy scout to the extreme, went home that night and printed them out and put them in his wallet so as to be case he ever needed them again. Because there is nothing worse than being caught without your Bonnie Tyler.

Of course, being Daisy and all, and having watched way too many episodes of Law and Order Criminal Intent, I had to point out that it was a good thing we all knew about the lyrics now. Because what if something happened to him one night in the roller derby parking lot? And the police had to explain to his mother: "We found these Bonnie Tyler lyrics in his wallet, ma'am." The unknown meaning might have haunted his family and friends for the rest of their lives.