Nobody ever wants to be a sub-prefect. Or a deputy Head Girl. In the same way, I imagine, that if you are a celebrity then you don't really want to be a minor celebrity. So with this is mind, I feel a little on the mean side by describing the two well-known faces I spotted at fifty yards as
minor slebs. They were staying at our hotel in Cornwall last week. I was as chuffed as punch to have identified them, as I only know one from the radio. I then studiously avoided eye-contact with them for the rest of the week. Because the last thing you want to do when on holiday is make eye-contact with outsiders. Nest-ce pas? That goes for me, rather than them. At the end of the week they might have been wondering, "
Doesn't anyone here know who we bloody are??"
But the hotel we stay at, is such a charming bastion of English refinement (boasting an hors d'oeuvres trolley as well as a pudding trolley) that nobody heeded their presence and concentrated on consuming as many calories as it is humanly possible to do, in any given day.
What I did learn, however, is that when, in future, I spot someone well-known, I do
not discretely nudge Dearest-soul-of-discretion, and draw them to his attention. Not unless I want to hear the immortal words,
"Who??? Never heard of 'em!"
Not even when I Googled him a picture.
Maybe I was the only one to recognise them.
If they are reading this Bunion Blog in search of guidance and stumble across this entry then I am sure they will be impressed by my consummate discretion.
No comments:
Post a Comment