I am stood at the bar in Paddington station with half an hour to kill till my next train. I may not have mentioned it much, but I am not drinking during January, so I have the embarrassment of ordering a mineral water to look forward to. I am sure my liver is thanking me. Silently. And with nothing outwardly noticeable.
The middle-aged man in front of me at the bar looks familiar, but I can’t place him. This is annoying because I am good with faces. Rubbish with names, but great with faces. Very often I will see some obscure actor on TV and point out that he was previously that guy in that show about the thing, you know, the one with the woman in it.
He orders a Guinness and some nuts. As the barman finishes pouring his pint he says, quite generously in my opinion “…and take one for yourself.”
“Thanks, what sort of drink are we talking about?” queries the barman.
He is surprised at this question, as am I.
In the olden days people would regularly tip the barman, and “have one yourself” would mean take a few pence, or “two bob” as my Dad says. Not any more, clearly.
The man shrugs his shoulders and looks at me. This is when I recognise him.
“I didn’t realise that offer would be a negotiation.” I point out to the guy who plays that nurse in that thing in the hospital on the BBC that is a bit like ER but with uglier actors.
He chuckles and says to the barman, in uncertain tones, “Three quid?”
“Thanks very much.” concludes the barman.
He goes off to his table and I take my refreshing and healthy, yet completely unsatisfying, mineral water to a nearby table. I take out a book and begin to read, with just twenty two minutes to kill.
A few minutes later, the guy who plays that nurse in that thing in the hospital on the BBC that is a bit like ER but with uglier actors asks me if I would mind keeping an eye on his bags whilst he goes for a cigarette. Of course, we are both in the entertainment industry, technically, so I feel it would be churlish to refuse on the grounds that he has been on television. I agree, but point out in tones that show I am also in the entertainment industry, that my train leaves in fifteen minutes, so I can only wait that long till he returns. I would not miss my train for him, even though he is the guy who plays that nurse in that thing in the hospital on BBC that is a bit like ER but with uglier actors.
After ten minutes I begin to worry. Cigarettes do not take that long to smoke, surely? Perhaps it is an elaborate ruse, and Al Qaeda have taken to disguising themselves as the guy who plays that nurse in that thing in the hospital on the BBC that is a bit like ER but with uglier actors in order to trick innocent commuters into guarding their as-yet-unexploded incendiary devices?
I briefly consider checking his bags for explosives. On the plus side, I could be declared a hero for not falling for Al Qaeda’s latest campaign, and saving many, many lives. On the downside, I could be charged with attempted theft and make it to somewhere around page seven in next week’s Heat magazine. “Top Blogger attempts to steal from the guy who plays that nurse in that thing in the hospital on the BBC that is a bit like ER but with uglier actors.” would make a headline I would never live down.
I decide to wait it out.
After fourteen minutes I pack up my things and put on my jacket as I prepare to leave for my train. The guy who plays that nurse in that thing in the hospital on BBC that is a bit like ER but with uglier actors has not returned. I feel he is taking our entertainment-industry camaraderie a little too far. It is possible that by leaving his bags unattended I could inadvertently cause a security alert, but technically that would be his fault and I much prefer the sound of a Heat headline reading, “The guy who plays that nurse in that thing in the hospital on BBC that is a bit like ER but with uglier actors causes security alert by leaving bags unattended.”
My mind is made up, I will leave the bags. As I take my first step towards the exit he returns. He thanks me politely and I make my way to my train, at which point I remember that he plays the character Charlie in Casualty.
bags · bar · paddington · train
Keef · January 19, 2009 at 10:49 am
Your concerns were well founded after all one question I’m always asked when checking in for a flight is whether or not I’ve used the Al-Qaeda Bag Packing Service. I used to think this was a daft question but then it occurred to me in this day and age that anyone dumb enough to let someone else pack their bag for them is probably dumb enough to admit it.
The question that we your loyal fans are surely intrigued to know the answer too is why have you quit drinking ?
GrumpyRN · January 19, 2009 at 10:55 am
Derek Thompson aka Charlie was also an IRA bomber in Harry’s Game in 1982
Admin comment by Mr Angry · January 19, 2009 at 11:32 am
Keef – Do not fret, I have not quit drinking. I have merely decided to see if I can give it up for a calendar month. You know, like a bit of a detox. I don’t think I’ve gone more than five days without a drink since I was 15. There are a few of us doing it, including Fat Jim and my friend Amy. I will tell you more about it later in the week.
GrumpyRN – Really?! He did have that “I could possibly be a terrorist” look about him.
Jaggy · January 19, 2009 at 1:06 pm
I’m reliably informed that he is no longer a nurse, he’s been promoted to some sort of supervisory role. You could have caused uproar in “entertainment” circles if you had referred to him as “that nurse” to his face.
Z · January 19, 2009 at 3:11 pm
Oh good, will you give up alcohol for me too please, so that I don’t have to?
Megan · January 19, 2009 at 3:19 pm
These brushes with fame can be so exciting, yet wearing. It’s probably why he had to excuse himself for so long – just to cool off a bit and not make a fool of himself.
Brennig Jones · January 19, 2009 at 4:09 pm
I may not have mentioned it much, but I am not drinking during January Taking antibiotics from the clinic?
Lin · January 20, 2009 at 9:33 am
This sounds like the thing to do it seems! I too am not drinking for January but only so I can kick the cigs.
First time I have got on the fashionable wagon at the same time as others. I am normally a decade behind.
sooz · January 23, 2009 at 6:00 pm
I’d have missed my train for Charlie!