I was at a model train place today. No, I’m not into model trains but they sell brass rods which are useful for other things closer to my heart.
At the counter I asked the assistant where I could find something, and a voice from behind offered assistance. I recognised the voice before turning my head. It was Peter “Grubby” Stubbs, half of the “Grubby and Dee Dee” breakfast team on Gold FM 104.3. He was very helpful. I resisted the impulse to tell him I knew who he was, though.
This is in complete contrast to an episode some years ago when I was buying fast food at a country petrol station in Mansfield one evening during their Balloon Festival. There was a chap there also getting a burger, and he looked awfully familiar. He just had to be someone I knew. So I apologised and said (approximately), “You look awfully familiar. Are you a fellow pilot or perhaps one of my customers?”
He looked at me quizzically, and simply replied “John Brumby”.
The (then) high profile Leader of the Opposition political party in Victoria (my state)……
Arrrghhhh….
Any similar experiences, gentle readers?
The Strange Adventures of Petunia Happenstance and her Chicken of Destiny 
My wife and I sat next to William Sanderson on an airplane. This was back in the late 80s, I think, or early 90s. Hell of a nice guy.
As a tot, I was an extra on Green Acres, so I could tell you about how I gave a lap dance for Ava Gabor š (Not really — but I did sit on her lap, wearing nothing but my underwear!)
What is it about the Gabor sisters that always makes me …. shudder…?
The only thing I know Sanderson from is Blade Runner.
Here we are: My cousin was poet laurete/lauriiette/whatever, of the USA. Louise Gluck, with an umlaute over the U.
I can’t spell laurette and I write smut. (As my sister says, the writers in the family range from high to low)
Kate: now you can spell laureate. But you still write smut. š Published smut! š