Work is mental at the moment. We’re organising shoots for two big commercials coming up and I’m on the phone all day to location scouts, the wardrobe department, director’s P.A’s, agent’s P.A’s, etc. I’ll probably have a cauliflower ear by this evening.
I’m eating lunch at my desk today so I thought I would write my entry while I munch. I have to be careful I don’t get mayonnaise on the keyboard. It stinks out the office for a week when I do.
I’m going to the cinema tonight. The BF has been gagging to see Watchmen. It is NOT my kind of movie, but he went to see Mamma Mia with me (the first time) so I think I owe him.
My topic today is celebrities. The job I have I occasionally get to meet some ‘celebrities’. I don’t have much to do with them because I am little more than a glorified runner, but I have shaken hands with a couple of stage and screen actors and the odd sports star.
Ireland is a very small country. Unless you have lived here you can’t appreciate how small it is, and everyone in Dublin has a celebrity story.
One night I went for drinks in the Clarence with some of the girls after work. I went up to the bar to get a round in. I find it always pays to get the first round. People remember it because they aren’t too plastered to forget and it gets your obligation out of the way.
There was this bloke sitting at the bar wearing a pair of sunglasses. I thought he might be blind or something. Anyway, he starts chatting to me, asking me what I thought of the place and where I worked, stuff like that. I’m used to being chatted up. Men take one look at my voluptuous panda curves and round black eyes and fall upon me. I suppose because I am exotic – and also very cute. This guy was not my type and I was so not interested in flirting with him. He was too old, for one thing, but he looked really familiar. I thought he might have been a friend of my dad’s. He seemed pleasant and he wasn’t being too overly friendly, more polite, so I didn’t give him the brush off.
We talked for about five minutes, and it kept niggling at the back of my furry brain pan that I knew this guy and he probably recognised me and thought how rude I was for not remembering him. Then the barman came up and took my order and I went back to the girls. They were whispering and giggling so I asked them what the joke was.
“That was Bono you were talking to.”
I thought he looked familiar! Luckily I know his music better than his face. He is a sound guy.
Love and light