My ex-girlfriend had
a rather enterprising friend who used mistaken identity for the purpose of blag.

See, matey was skint, and he fancied a night out at a rather prestigious London nitespot, and he had the choice of paying to get in and staying sober, or blagging his way in and getting pissed. So he hatched a plot, and a cunning one it was too.

He arrived with his friends and went to the VIP entrance. Who goes there, went the bouncer. Matey adopted his false persona.

"Me. The bassist out of Placebo."
"Who?"
"You know the band Placebo?"
"Yeah"
"The one with the androgenous singer a load of people jacked off over when our first single was out when they thought he was a girl?"
"Er,(remembers), yeah?"
"I'm their bassist. The bassist in Placebo. The Placebo bassist."
"I don't recognise you."
"No-one ever does. In fact, I dare you to find anyone who knows what I look like."

Conferring briefly with his colleagues, the box office and cloakroom staff, he found that no-one had the faintest idea of what the bassist out of Placebo looked like. So he let him in anyway, either as a benefit of doubt or as a reward for having that much cheek.

And the moral of this story is: the bassist out of Placebo
(cs1ca, Thu 31 May 2007, 23:13, Reply)