staying at a posh hotel in liverpool once
i know, i didn't think there were any either. anyway, i was about 8 and my brothers and dad were there to watch the utd-liverpool game. i was there to play in the spa and to get a mars bar at half time (we were never allowed chocolate at home).

so we're in reception waiting for the players to come out of some ceremony or other and head off to anfield. and my older brother is clutching a pen and paper and wetting himself with excitement. when the teams came running through the hotel, he shoved it into my hand and told me to go and get the autographs.

well, i wouldn't know a footballer out of his strip if he bit me on the ass (although i might enjoy it if it was beckham or van nistelrooy). i turned in helpless 8 year old circles in the middle of these photographers' flashes and men running through the crowds to their coaches in the carpark. eventually i found one man who was walking slowly and wearing a uniform. result. so i asked him for his autograph.

i can still see his bemused face as he stared at me. "what? my autograph?" he said in disbelief.

i had asked the bellboy....................
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 7 Jun 2007, 0:31, Reply)