A pretty, young teen stepped outside her flat and closed the door behind her. She pulled her trench coat tighter around her thin body and buttoned it up. It was cold and rainy out, but she walked downtown anyway. She didn't own a car. Liverpool could be a lonely place on a Saturday night, and even though she was new there, it didn't take long for her to figure that part out. She hoped she could change that lonely feeling stirring inside her tonight. As she walked the short walk downtown she passed many full pubs, but didn't stop until she reached a certain one. This one was packed with teens on Saturday nights dancing and drinking the night away. She walked in, sat down at the bar, and ordered a pint. This lonely young woman had come to this particular pub out of all others for one reason: a skiffle group called the Quarrymen. Her friend Mary from Liverpool (who had since moved to London) had told her about them and how it was a happening place on Saturday evenings, so while she was here, she decided to come and listen. The lone girl agreed with Mary about how happening it was, but the only thing the girl really enjoyed was the music. She listened to every word uttered by the singer, and every note strummed by the guitarist. She tried to talk to a boy, but was soon rejected for another girl. When the songs slowed down, and the bands changed, everyone including the Quarrymen seemed to have a partner except the girl at the bar, and when the girl found she could no longer enjoy the wonderful music she listened to all alone, she tipped the bartender and left, feeling helplessly alone and depressed.