Two geezers, same name. Secret service.
I was an Industrial press Photographer in Saudi Arabia before it all went nasty. One day, buying a Pepsi from a street venders ice box, I noticed all these yanks removing 'puters and fax machines in haste from this building. Turned out the National Commercial Bank were quitting the site. I took a photo and gave it to the Finance Editor, who published it as he had nothing better.

Two days later I was arrested by the secret police, at gunpoint of course - and those bastards are gun happy and stupid too, the eyes converge y'see.

The building was owned by the Minister of Finance, and his son was an architect, who checked out the basement after the caretaker wouldn't stop bitching. Sure enough the bastard thing is a cheap shit job and is falling down. (Main vertical support beams are a crumbling, see?)

That's not the good bit.

By now my name is on the front cover with big photos and my name underneath. Chris Wheatley, Chief photographer, Saudi Gazette (me)

Trouble was there was a deputy branch manager in the bank based on the Gulf. (we are talking big f'ing banks here, 40 floor buildings)
He had the same name and had just been fired for 'conflict of interest'.

I had to prove to his boss and directors that I was a white english chap, whist he was a black New Yorker with an appaling accent and no idea how to take a decent photograph.

Trouble was his boss was a Texan Redneck and really didn't like the chaps complexion and wanted shot of him. I wasn't having that.

The Ministry of Information (Mis-Information we called it) pulled the subsequent follow up story and I ended up in deep shit with the Editor-in-Chief for have the same name as a wanking banker and got transferred to the Gulf. which is shitsville to the Saudis.

The bastard never invited me to dinner for saving his job either.
(chrisjw, Tue 15 Feb 2005, 23:27, Reply)