Why I was late"On the way to the station, I got hit by a bat, it almost took my head clean off. Then the machine would not accept my ticket and the guy at the gate didn't think I looked like the photo on my travel card. So I had to go home and get my passport.
Then the train was 45 minutes late to the station because of the dangerous badger threat at Carpenters Park.
When I was on the train it took and hour and a half to get past the biscuit factory because the driver was really fat.
Then there was a delay stopping at the station because the train in front had heard we were coming and decided to play a practical joke with a rubber shoe on the track.
That is why I couldn't get here on time today."
What's your best excuse?
(
chthonic, Thu 28 Jun 2007, 10:36)
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Absolutely trueI was working on the Greek island of Cephallonia at the same time they were making that pisspoor Captain Corelli's Mandolin film. John Hurt, Penelope Cruz and Nic Cage were staying in my small villlage, which had only a handful of restarants and one bar. I saw them most mornings as I got my breakfast from the bakers.
Once a week, I had to drive to the main town of Argostoli to meet the boss and tidy up any paperwork. It was an hour drive and I always set off early in case I was held up by sheep on the road. I always made it on time - except on the occasion that I ran Nicolas Cage over.
I saw his mercedes with the blacked-out windows a few hundred metres away. It was parked at the side of the road. Naturally, I slowed down to see if I could catch a glimpse of him snorting coke or humping Cruz in the back, but at that moment he stepped out from some olive trees into the middle of the road.
He'd been taking a piss and hadn't heard my car rolling in neutral. I couldn't brake in time and he went over the bonnet, hitting his head on the windscreen. At first, I though he was dead. He just lay there in the road, unconscious. I was shitting myself, thinking "Christ, I've killed Captain Corelli!"
I dragged him to the side of the road and tried slapping his face a few times. Finally, he started to come round. He gazed at me with those piercing eyes and asked me what had happened. I told him that some bloody Greek driver had winged him and that I'd stopped to help.
He gave me his vintage Vacheron Constantin watch in gratitude. It's worth about £18,000. Still got it.
Oh, and I was 20 minutes late for my meeting.
(, Wed 4 Jul 2007, 16:42, Reply)
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