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I don't really look like Moby. Ok, I'm bald, pasty and could at times have been described as scrawny, but that's as far as the likeness goes. In the eyes of some, however, I am he. Indeed, my user name came about at Uni as a result of these occasional embarrassments, coupled with my propensity to act in such a manner that school children might cry "Joey" at.

For example, one day out record shopping on London's Berwick Street I passed a Japanese fella on my way out of a shop, nodded hello, as I'm a friendly chap, and carried on in my own absent minded way.

Moments later I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs behind me and felt an eager tap on my shoulder. I turned cautiously, needlessly worried that I might accidentally have forgotten to pay for the records in the bag I'd quite obviously just been given to carry the records I'd just bought, to see the very same punter grinning at me and offering a hand to shake.

"Hi" he sputtered, barely able to contain his excitement.

"Um, hello?" I offered in response.

"So nice to meet you" is how I remember his next sentence.

"Likewise" I retaliated, with growing confusion.

Then he launched into an garbled monologue about his love of my music, while I grinned and nodded appropriately.

It's worth mentioning that I am a musician of sorts, had not long released a CD (not with much success, but some people, of the type that may frequent record shops around Berwick Street, had bought it) and I'd played a few gigs around that point, so just thought he was a genuine fan of my music, thus making me grin and nod all the more fervently.

But then he began mentioning albums I had nothing to do with. Albums I wasn't particularly aware of (it's also worth mentioning that I'm not a big fan of the bald vegan and his bland pop) and his mistake became all too obvious; I guess we all look the same to our Oriental chums, particularly those of us who are bald, pasty and scrawny.

"What to do?" asked my brain of itself, "this could be fun".

Do I shatter his illusions of this questionable hero and unleash a diatribe about 'my' hatred of over zealous fans?

Wouldn't it be more proper to thank him profusely and offer an autograph and perhaps some tickets to a gig 'I' might have coming up?

I had no idea what the appropriate behaviour was in these situations, so rather than doing something cool I simply mumbled embarrassed gratitude, shook his hand all too limply and made good my escape before anyone encountered our excruciating exchange.

It's lucky I'm not a famous musician, I'd be rubbish.
( Moey, Sat 18 Apr 2009, 12:49, Reply)