Upon my initial entrance into the venue, the tuxedo-clad security baboons took my cheap disposable camera. On the second go-through, after a much needed cigarette, they made me check my whole bag. I was clearly annoyed, not to mention late, purseless and cameraless. But by the time I hit my front-row-center seats, I couldn’t have cared less.

Little did I know that never in my life would I have needed a camera more than this. During the encore, “Sweet and Dandy,” Trey pulled me on stage to dance with him.

It’s not like the show wasn’t good enough already – a “Night Speaks to a Woman” opener, a killer “Mozambique” and a take-my-breath-away “Drifting” in Set I. I could have done without the Set II “Cincinnati” call, but the band was chock-full-o-“Tubes” (First and Last) and just rockin’ out.

By the end of the second set, Trey still had yet to sing to me or smile at me – things I had been dreaming about for days. So, I was a little disappointed. I figured there was no way I could be that close to the stage and not get so much as a wink or a nod.

Then, the band came back for the encore. “All right Mr. Trey, here’s your last chance to make my night,” I thought to myself. I guess he heard me because before I knew it he had put down his cowbell, grabbed my hand and pulled me up on stage.

I was dancing with Trey.

I wasn’t completely sure what my next move should be. Trey didn’t really know what to do with me either. I started out following his lead, holding hands, swinging our arms back and forth as we strolled across the stage. But the band kicked in with a sick beat and I couldn’t help myself. I led us into a salsa-like dance as we smiled and laughed together.

He hugged me mid-dance and asked my name. Couldn’t mess that one up. “Sandra,” I said.

“Sandra, thank you so much.”

“No, thank you,” I said. He hugged me again. We used our hips as instruments as we jammed out together.

“You’re such a wonderful dancer,” he said. “Thank you so much.” I could feel the edges of my smile nearly hitting my ears.

After taking me across the stage to meet trumpet player Jenny Hartswick, Trey hugged me one more time, thanked me one more time and exited, stage right. The rest of the band followed, shaking my hand as they walked off.

I sat down on the stage in front of my friend, every inch of my body shaking and swaying back and forth. All I could get out was “Oh, my God” over and over again.

People wanted to touch my hands. Some just looked at me shaking their heads. Others told me I absolutely had to go backstage. Oh, good idea. I didn’t want to push my luck, but I decided to anyway. We walked backstage without a single person questioning our presence. I was officially known as “The Girl Who Danced With Trey.”

I kicked it with all the other members of the band for a while and then went upstairs to find Trey. After convincing security to let us through, I got to the top of the stairs and Trey spotted me. “There she is. There’s my dancing partner!” He grabbed me and we start dancing again. He’s sweaty and somehow became extraordinarily intoxicated in the past half-hour. He asked a nearby girl if she wanted a can of Squirt. “Squirt, it’s delicious,” he said. This goes on for about five minutes.

Trey no longer seemed like my untouchable rockstar as he danced around spilling Squirt on himself. He was just as silly and ridiculous as any other normal fool, and I loved it every minute of it. Before I headed out, Trey told me he had read my aura from onstage. “You made my show,” he said, with another hug.

Apparently, I made at least one other person’s show as well. “It was fun to watch Trey dance on stage with some random girl from the audience (she was good too!),” said an online message-board writer. “She was also hot, and with a nice see-through dress.”

I never could have imagined my night would turn out as such. Nor could I have guessed that my skirt was completely see-through. But hey, life is full of surprises.

And that’s what nude-colored thongs are for anyway.

– SANDRA KEATS