Well they're all disappointing really.
I worked for Our Price for a long time and you meet a load of so called stars over the counter.

Starting with the ubiquitous Wayne Hussey: he was morose, but got chatty about Bjork. Promised to come and see my band but never showed up.

Then of course there was the day 'Queenie' out of Blackadder 2 came into the store. She turned up at closing time and kept us open for thirty minutes whilst she looked at her own videos and didn't buy anything. Meanwhile her kids (3 or 4 year olds) are running round and screaming, one eventually headbutting a tall sales assistant impressively in the nuts. The cow didn't even apologise!

Diana the dead adulterous fake royal came into my shop in Kensington with one of her child spongers. I blanked her, I'm no royalist! I let the big gay Australian sales assistant deal with her cause he was starstruck like a big gay bi-atch.

I once met Robert Plant, who bought me a pint and was very down to earth, whatever that means. I liked him and didn't mention stairway to heaven out of politeness sake.

Ending on a sad one, back at Kensington a few days after Michael Hutchence died we had a visit from Paula Yates. She spotted a rather unfavourable 'auto-erotic-hanging-suicide story' in one of the music rags and went totally apeshit. The swearing and shrieking was beyond professional in it's inventivenss and length. I felt very sad for her and so very full of love I wanted to take her away somewhere and look after her.

But then I thought about Bob Geldof...

Oh well, apologies for the absurd length, but this is just a few of the stories. Remind me to tell you about Alyson (Willow outta Buffy) Hannigan, some time. She was nice, and even swopped spit with me. (I'm still dining out on that one.)
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Fri 26 May 2006, 19:03, Reply)