Last night on the train, I found myself facing a man who looked suspiciously like the actor, William Houston. A quite distinctive looking man. Despite having two books and a notepad for writing ideas with me, I spent 40 minutes trying to work out if it was him. I mainly used the medium of staring.
I still don’t know if it was him or not.
Still at least I recognised who he might have been, not so lucky the man I accosted on a street in Chelsea a few years back.
I spotted him walking towards me and instantly knew we had met somewhere. Not wanting to be rude, I bounced up to him with all the enthusiasm of a labrador and greeted him warmly.
“Hello, how are you? Gosh, haven’t seen you in a long time! What have you been up to?”
“Erm, fine thanks. How are you?” said the man clearly trying to place me as fervently as I was trying to place him.
“Oh you know. Work mainly. Oh I left the Beeb. Can’t remember if I last saw you before or after that.”
“Not sure. Are you still living in…” he desperately looked at me to fill in the blanks.
“Yes still in Shepherds Bush with Ian. You should come round.”
“Er yes, yes. I should… I think.”
“Well I should be getting back to work, but drop me an email. Drinks maybe?”
“OK. I should be getting on too. Prep for dinner service.”
And then it hit me. I knew exactly where I knew him and from that moment on I couldn’t say goodbye quick enough.
I hadn’t met him somewhere. I had seen him the previous week on BBC2’s ‘Great British Menu’ and the man was Marcus Wareing.