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I dealt with a few famous people at work over the last couple of years.  Rich Hall was very nice and  Jimmy Carr was alright, though some of my colleagues found the latter horrid.  We had Martin Kemp in the other week but I never saw him.  I did deal with Russell Kane a couple of months back and he and his hanger-ons behaviour was a little odd.

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I drove Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones from the airport when they came to St Andrews.. He was pished and had cut his leg falling down the stairs getting off the plane. She was lovely and chatted away normally. I was moderately in love with her for a while after.

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5 hours ago, Zetterlund said:

I drove Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones from the airport when they came to St Andrews.. He was pished and had cut his leg falling down the stairs getting off the plane. She was lovely and chatted away normally. I was moderately in love with her for a while after.

What accent does she use in such situations? 

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  • 5 weeks later...
  • 1 year later...

I didn’t see either of them, but we had Jack Whitehall in work a while back. Apparently he was a knob who had his entourage answer for him, even when he was sitting right there! Example was in not long after and he was apparently a lovely fellow.

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I used to work in Greaves in Glasgow and frequently met the great and good of Scottish fitba.

Tore Andre Flo and his lovely wife are a stand-out memory as they were both thoroughly lovely people. Obviously you hear of fitba players who make it big (financially , at least, in the case of Flo) and they act like they're entitled to it and cut about like Louis XIV. Flo was the opposite and was totally grounded. Absolute gent and his wife was an absolute babe, in every sense. 

I once played fives against Barry Lavety. I remember pegging him, but not feeling great about it afterwards. It was a pretty sad experience as he's pretty overweight now, and had fallen on hard times financially. Lovely fella, genuinely sound and humble man, but he knows he fucked up, and he wears that regret fairly obviously.

Graham Shinnie and his missus are regulars at the restaurant at which I work. Lovely chap, but never tips. Grinds my gears endlessly as he must be on a hefty wedge (see also Stevie May and Andrew Considine......but not Dom Ball, who can come back any time he pleases thank you very much). There was a period where Shinnie's other half came into the restaurant for lunch with the wee one about once, sometimes twice a week. We got chatting and it gave me a different insight into the life of a footballer's wife. She talked about how, with the recent clear out of players, she'd lost a lot of her social circle (the other wives who are young mums have play-dates etc) and she did seem particularly lonely (hence the increase in her visits to oor restaurant). I didn't even encourage her to share anything, she just unloaded for about ten minutes. Lovely exchange actually.

Finally, one for the "infuriating things your weans do" page.

My da takes me to the Scotland v Ghana u16 game in 1989. Outside the ground there's a small crowd around a man who my old man says was his favourite player when he was wee. Me being 6, I proceed to wander toward the stall where flags and badges are being sold. My da stops moving towards this former footballer and has to come and get me after I'd wandered off. He then, again tries to get me to go with him to meet this man who my dad liked as a boy. As a 6 year old whose heid was full of wee motors, I again start moving in the general direction of yet another badge and flag vendor. Faither then gives up his quest to meet this, presumably less interesting man (he wasn't selling a single badge ffs) and takes me into the ground. We take our seats and, just before the anthems there's an announcement as the man my da wanted to meet is welcomed onto the pitch. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our special guest for the day.....Pele". 

:rolleyes:  

 

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