A brush with celebrity #1

So I'm sitting here, munching on some new salt and vinegar Ryvita minis, which despite tasting a bit like slightly seasoned cardboard are inexplicably more-ish, watching *another* classic episode of Friends, and suddenly I thought "hot-damn! I think I'll write a blog entry!"

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: A brush with celebrity, numero uno:

About three years ago the lovely people who run the comic shop I spend FAR too much money in threw a Midsummer's party at a pub in Twickenham which I toddled along to. I seem to remember I got there slightly fashionably late with my mate Emma, and being the gentleman I am I got the first round in. I distinctly recall leaning up against the bar, ordering the drinks and thinking "Geez! That guy at the bar next to me looks just like Bill Paxton!"

Of course, what the bloody hell would Bill Paxton be doing in Twickenham on a Saturday night? Dur! I collected the drinks and went out to the beer garden.

About an hour or so later, Emma and I were chatting away when someone happened to pass by and say "Did you meet Bill Paxton yet?" I, of course, did a comedy double-take. Unsubstantiated evidence suggests that it's quite possible my eyes came out on stalks too.

"Bill Paxton? HERE?!"

"Yes, he's staying locally while he's filming the Thunderbirds movie."

"Oooooooh… REALLY!?"

"Yes, really. He's inside now playing table football."

On this bombshell, I looked at my glass. It was about half full (or half empty, depending on how you look at it), so I figured I'd give it 10 minutes or so, down my bevvy, and head inside to get a refill. And say "hi" to Bill.

I could picture it already - I'd wander into the pub, catch Bill score a winning goal in his table football game, and I'd shout "That's it man, game over man, game over!" and he'd look at me and laugh, I'd buy him a beer, we'd man-bond over crazy stories and quotes from Aliens, and I'd tell him that I was sure Thunderbirds would be a MASSIVE box office hit - I mean, how could it not be? Everything would be terrific with the world.

Ten minutes passed, and I looked at Emma. "Time for a refill?"

"It's my round," she said. Was she trying to squeeze her way into Bill's affections too?

"Don't worry," I replied, "you can get the next one."

And with that I turned and headed toward the bar, passing the person who'd earlier told me that Bill was inside.

"I'm off to say hi to Bill," I grinned. "Do you want a beer?"

"Bill left about five minutes ago. And yes I'd love a beer."

"Grrrrrrr… ARSE!"

So there we have it. Instead of regaling you with a tale of how I chatted to one of Hollywood's most familiar faces, I'm left instead with a story of how I stood next to him at the bar for a few minutes and ignored him.

Or I could just claim that famous people *SO* don't impress me. Yeah… I think I'll do that.