Famous people, preconceptions busted/confirmed
Discussion
I picked up Jarvis Cocker at Eurostar, St. Pancras in my taxi years ago, he asked for the Covent Garden Hotel.
Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
Frank7 said:
I picked up Jarvis Cocker at Eurostar, St. Pancras in my taxi years ago, he asked for the Covent Garden Hotel.
Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
Did you know where it was?Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
bingybongy said:
Frank7 said:
I picked up Jarvis Cocker at Eurostar, St. Pancras in my taxi years ago, he asked for the Covent Garden Hotel.
Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
Did you know where it was?Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
As I was a licenced London Black Cab driver, take a wild leap and guess if I knew it.
Frank7 said:
bingybongy said:
Frank7 said:
I picked up Jarvis Cocker at Eurostar, St. Pancras in my taxi years ago, he asked for the Covent Garden Hotel.
Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
Did you know where it was?Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
As I was a licenced London Black Cab driver, take a wild leap and guess if I knew it.
nonsequitur said:
Flip Martian said:
nonsequitur said:
Cantaloupe said:
They are just human, they sh it, pis s and far t like the rest of us.
An old put down of famous people. What does surprise me though is when a famous person is described as a 'good bloke', as if we are all expecting a monster.
A brush with fame and/or people fawning all over you can turn previously sensible people into egos the size of a planet. But we all want people we "like" to be nice people who still treat people with respect.But to flip the coin for a minute - the general public can be complete cock wombles to celebs too, so you can take some stories with a pinch of salt sometimes I think.
Ben Jk said:
Another famous ex F1 driver took a shine to one of my female bar staff. Less said about that the better but I had to have words with her about her responsibilities and professional standards whilst on duty.
No, MORE said about that the better! You can't leave us dangling with that snippet! Before my little brush with showbiz I wrote a couple of pieces involving Grumbleweed Robin Colville. He'd built a Cobra replica and later had Coombs MkII Jaguar so my articles were for Kit Car and Practical Classics.
This led to me doing the pics for The Grumbleweeds'summer tour brochure. Robin was an entertaining bloke, funny and forceful in equal measure. But Graham Grumbleweed was great fun. In his double garage, he was talking to me about his hobby - making walking sticks and shepherds crooks.
"Are you squeamish?" quoth he, pulling a recently severed ram's head from a bag. I wasn't squeamish anyway. Just as well really.
This led to a job in z Scarborough, doing front of house pics for The Krankies. Jeanette was great, marshaling the showgirls for my snaps. He was morose git, who quietly sold the theatre some stock shots of his own. So the only money involved was what I spent on petrol, film and processing.
Long before this, I had to photograph a retirement presentation. I had the retiree sit at an old loom the factory owned. The celeb involved was to present a mantle clock to the old boy. The celeb was Bobby Charlton.
Then, a freelancer from the rival paper snapped my setup. I had to do a new shot very quickly. and BC played up big style. It was only when I asked if he wanted to ruin the old chap's send off that he cooperated, very sullenly.
Always get the shot... golden rule.
This led to me doing the pics for The Grumbleweeds'summer tour brochure. Robin was an entertaining bloke, funny and forceful in equal measure. But Graham Grumbleweed was great fun. In his double garage, he was talking to me about his hobby - making walking sticks and shepherds crooks.
"Are you squeamish?" quoth he, pulling a recently severed ram's head from a bag. I wasn't squeamish anyway. Just as well really.
This led to a job in z Scarborough, doing front of house pics for The Krankies. Jeanette was great, marshaling the showgirls for my snaps. He was morose git, who quietly sold the theatre some stock shots of his own. So the only money involved was what I spent on petrol, film and processing.
Long before this, I had to photograph a retirement presentation. I had the retiree sit at an old loom the factory owned. The celeb involved was to present a mantle clock to the old boy. The celeb was Bobby Charlton.
Then, a freelancer from the rival paper snapped my setup. I had to do a new shot very quickly. and BC played up big style. It was only when I asked if he wanted to ruin the old chap's send off that he cooperated, very sullenly.
Always get the shot... golden rule.
Frank7 said:
I picked up Jarvis Cocker at Eurostar, St. Pancras in my taxi years ago, he asked for the Covent Garden Hotel.
Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
People. So common, Frank.Can’t remember what I said, usually, “Okay”, or “You got it”, or sometimes just a nod of agreement, but as I crossed Euston Road, into Judd Street, heading toward Russell Square, and eventually Monmouth Street, he said, “You DO know where this hotel is, don’t you?”
I replied, “I’ll take that as a joke, okay?”
He said, “Okay, sorry.”
So as far as I’m concerned, I thought he was going to be trouble, but he was okay, eventually.
Dr Jekyll said:
There was that case years ago when someone was standing in a queue in a shop, taking no particular notice of the bloke in front of her when he span round and said 'Yes, I am Jeffrey Archer', Apparently it didn't occur to her to say 'Jeffrey who?' until it was too late.
I broke down outside his house, en route to visit my dying father. He sent one of his minions to tell me to move.Not a fan.
Carnage said:
Dr Jekyll said:
There was that case years ago when someone was standing in a queue in a shop, taking no particular notice of the bloke in front of her when he span round and said 'Yes, I am Jeffrey Archer', Apparently it didn't occur to her to say 'Jeffrey who?' until it was too late.
I broke down outside his house, en route to visit my dying father. He sent one of his minions to tell me to move.Not a fan.
Flip Martian said:
Kind of interesting, as he wrote several diaries of his time in prison in which he was at great pains to point out how normal he was and how he was able to get on with his fellow "lags" and came across as relatively human. Perhaps his long experience of writing fiction helped...
It wouldn’t surprise me! When the AA turned up to recover me, it was a local guy. Apparently he’s notorious in the area for being fairly vile.
Pre-divorce I used to take my son, who was 10 at the time, and thanks in no small part to the 2005 Ashes series a massive cricket fan, to what was then the Rose Bowl to watch Hampshire. He got to meet all of the Hampshire players, who were very generous with their time, and great with the youngsters, and the best of all was Shane Warne, who was absolutely fantastic with the supporters, and would stand pitch side after a game for ages signing autographs, having photos taken, etc.
Kevin Pietersen was always good with the fans as well, although he didn't play very often, as he was on an England central contract, but it was worth making the effort to go and watch when he was available.
On one memorable occasion we were playing Yorkshire, and he got to meet one of his Ashes heroes, Matthew Hoggard, and while he was getting Hoggy's autograph and having a chat Jason Gillespie joined in and gave him his as well.
He didn't get Michael Vaughan's autograph, though, despite asking politely. Mr Vaughan obviously had something more important to do.
Sadly, my own brush with fame was spending a long time chatting to Paul Warwick at a charity karting event. Top bloke, walking away with the British F3000 Championship at the time, and talking to a couple of F1 teams about the following season. He was killed at Oulton Park a fortnight later.
Kevin Pietersen was always good with the fans as well, although he didn't play very often, as he was on an England central contract, but it was worth making the effort to go and watch when he was available.
On one memorable occasion we were playing Yorkshire, and he got to meet one of his Ashes heroes, Matthew Hoggard, and while he was getting Hoggy's autograph and having a chat Jason Gillespie joined in and gave him his as well.
He didn't get Michael Vaughan's autograph, though, despite asking politely. Mr Vaughan obviously had something more important to do.
Sadly, my own brush with fame was spending a long time chatting to Paul Warwick at a charity karting event. Top bloke, walking away with the British F3000 Championship at the time, and talking to a couple of F1 teams about the following season. He was killed at Oulton Park a fortnight later.
davhill said:
Before my little brush with showbiz I wrote a couple of pieces involving Grumbleweed Robin Colville. He'd built a Cobra replica and later had Coombs MkII Jaguar so my articles were for Kit Car and Practical Classics.
This led to me doing the pics for The Grumbleweeds'summer tour brochure. Robin was an entertaining bloke, funny and forceful in equal measure. But Graham Grumbleweed was great fun. In his double garage, he was talking to me about his hobby - making walking sticks and shepherds crooks.
"Are you squeamish?" quoth he, pulling a recently severed ram's head from a bag. I wasn't squeamish anyway. Just as well really.
This led to a job in z Scarborough, doing front of house pics for The Krankies. Jeanette was great, marshaling the showgirls for my snaps. He was morose git, who quietly sold the theatre some stock shots of his own. So the only money involved was what I spent on petrol, film and processing.
Long before this, I had to photograph a retirement presentation. I had the retiree sit at an old loom the factory owned. The celeb involved was to present a mantle clock to the old boy. The celeb was Bobby Charlton.
Then, a freelancer from the rival paper snapped my setup. I had to do a new shot very quickly. and BC played up big style. It was only when I asked if he wanted to ruin the old chap's send off that he cooperated, very sullenly.
Always get the shot... golden rule.
You are Count Arthur Strong and I claim my five pounds. This led to me doing the pics for The Grumbleweeds'summer tour brochure. Robin was an entertaining bloke, funny and forceful in equal measure. But Graham Grumbleweed was great fun. In his double garage, he was talking to me about his hobby - making walking sticks and shepherds crooks.
"Are you squeamish?" quoth he, pulling a recently severed ram's head from a bag. I wasn't squeamish anyway. Just as well really.
This led to a job in z Scarborough, doing front of house pics for The Krankies. Jeanette was great, marshaling the showgirls for my snaps. He was morose git, who quietly sold the theatre some stock shots of his own. So the only money involved was what I spent on petrol, film and processing.
Long before this, I had to photograph a retirement presentation. I had the retiree sit at an old loom the factory owned. The celeb involved was to present a mantle clock to the old boy. The celeb was Bobby Charlton.
Then, a freelancer from the rival paper snapped my setup. I had to do a new shot very quickly. and BC played up big style. It was only when I asked if he wanted to ruin the old chap's send off that he cooperated, very sullenly.
Always get the shot... golden rule.
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