My Madonna weekend in London was hilarious in terms of celeb spotting. My companion Ephram was HELL BENT on spotting some creatures of fame, and was delighted to see "some guy from Ballykissangel" and an "irish actress" on our flight. He claimed they were our first and second celeb spottings - I begged to differ. As far as I'm concerned, if you don't know their names, they ain't no celebrity.
Throughout day one of the trip Eph hallucinated celeb after celeb like someone dying of thirst seeing oasis mirages in the desert.
Then, just as its starting to get annoying on day 2 of our trip we're wildly dashing through "Theatreland" to get to a matinee performance of Les Mis when the traffic mayhem means we have to wait to cross the road. As we're standing there, Ephram stamps his foot and exclaims very loudly, "Dammit, I wanna see some celebrities!!!!" I begin to lecture him on how we're in the wrong area to see celebs and if he's really that desperate we'll need to go to Bond Street etc, when he mutters "Look behind me." I look.
Its feckin Christian Slater.
We laughed our asses off and fell across the road. There is no possible way he couldn't have heard us, he was practically touching Eph. I'm surprised he didn't tap E on the shoulder and say "eh, do I not count???". He probably went home and cried to whoever it is he lived with... "My career is over...I don't even count anymore!!!!"
Hilarious.
Aside from other passionate claims by Ephram to have seen "yer man off the telly-you know the one I mean. You know him!" (One of these by the way, was some sort of campaigner he had seen on the news once. COME ON MAN. Have some standards for what quantifies a celeb), there were no sightings until we were queuing in Heathrow where we were alongside gardener Diarmuid Gavin (who in comparison to the "campaigner off the news" seemed like the king of celebrity). All very exciting.
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