Ev, over at Nowhere, IL was recently reminded of her close personal relationship with Paul McCartney by reading all about Feral Mom’s Beatles reminiscences. So, of course I felt I had to share my close-personal-relationship-with-a-celebrity story, too.
It all started after a night of carousing in downtown Toronto. I was struttin’ from bar to bar with my posse late, late when I was accosted by a scruffy, urine/muscatel-soaked gentleman attempting to sell me week-old newspapers.
No, this wasn’t the celebrity. However, this fragrant fellow got rather aggressive and grabbed me by the arm, which caused me to pull away rather abruptly, making me spin backwards and smack into Elton John. (Before he was a Sir and before he was even gay.)
I said “holy shit”. He smiled and walked on with his two poncey friends. That’s it. My only brush with fame, not including anyone I might have seen or hounded for an autograph at concerts, literary readings, sporting or other events. (The only time those things count are when you make it into the groupie pool. Which reminds me – once when I worked at an Arts Centre, the secretary for our section made it into the Burton Cummings groupie pool, but she had an unfair advantage because she was working at the venue he came to play at.)
What are your most unusual celebrity encounters?
Showing posts with label Sir Paul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sir Paul. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
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