Celebrity Encounters III
I once stood next to Ian Beale out of EastEnders in the gents' toilets at the BBC. BEAT THAT. Tell us of celebrity encounters that went well, or meetings with the famous that ended up as a complete disaster. (And we'll take it as read you've just made up a "I got touched up by Jimmy Savile" story, OK?)
Suggested by Munsta
( , Thu 5 Dec 2013, 13:19)
I once stood next to Ian Beale out of EastEnders in the gents' toilets at the BBC. BEAT THAT. Tell us of celebrity encounters that went well, or meetings with the famous that ended up as a complete disaster. (And we'll take it as read you've just made up a "I got touched up by Jimmy Savile" story, OK?)
Suggested by Munsta
( , Thu 5 Dec 2013, 13:19)
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I believe I've told this story before,
but years ago, on my last day in a job and after my leaving lunch I was lagging behind everyone else on the way back to the office near Russell Square, struggling to light a cigarette in the wind, when I got stopped by a big fat bloke asking me dirctions to Great Ormond Street Hospital. A bottle of cheap white wine to the good, it seemed hilarious to me at the time to confidently and accurately direct him to the rear entrance of The British Museum. How I laughed as he strode off in completely the opposite direction to the one he really needed. "That'll teach the fucker for Viva Rock Vegas" I thought. And about an hour later I was struck down by guilt. No one goes to Great Ormond Street for a good reason.
What if i deprived a dying child of his life long dream to meet Fred Flintstone?
( , Thu 5 Dec 2013, 16:29, Reply)
but years ago, on my last day in a job and after my leaving lunch I was lagging behind everyone else on the way back to the office near Russell Square, struggling to light a cigarette in the wind, when I got stopped by a big fat bloke asking me dirctions to Great Ormond Street Hospital. A bottle of cheap white wine to the good, it seemed hilarious to me at the time to confidently and accurately direct him to the rear entrance of The British Museum. How I laughed as he strode off in completely the opposite direction to the one he really needed. "That'll teach the fucker for Viva Rock Vegas" I thought. And about an hour later I was struck down by guilt. No one goes to Great Ormond Street for a good reason.
What if i deprived a dying child of his life long dream to meet Fred Flintstone?
( , Thu 5 Dec 2013, 16:29, Reply)
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