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Monday 12th April 2004

I got recognised in public for the second time in three days, which is quite exceptional in itself, but once again the person who stopped me managed to accidentally highlight my hypocrisy.
I was passing through the passages of Oxford Circus tube on my way home tonight, when I passed a couple of homeless men begging for change. "Spare me something pal," said the younger man who was sitting on the floor, "I'm starving."
As a heartless Londoner who has to negotiate such scenarios several times a day, I remained unmoved and whilst offering an emotionless mouthed apology, I carried on my way without really looking at him.
I got a few yards beyond him when he exclaimed, "Richard!" I didn't imagine he was talking to me. "Richard.....Herring. It's Richard Herring."
I turned back in surprise. To begin with I wondered if the unfortunate fellow was someone I knew. Perhaps an old school friend fallen on hard times. Or had the dream I have dreamt for fifteen years finally come true. The dream in which I am swaggering down the street in all my finery, only to walk past a dirt splattered and pathetic figure, begging for crumbs, and who I suddenly recognise as Stewart Lee. I look at him with affectionate pity and say, "You see, Stew, I was best after all." Then I give him a pat on the head and a 10p coin and say "Have a cup of tea on me, mate, for old time's sake," before heading home to see my wives, Carol Vorderman, Delia Smith and Jordan (all bases covered).
Ha ha, I'm only kidding. I would give him at least 50p (I am funny).
But the figure wasn't Stewart Lee or indeed anyone I knew. He was merely a fan of my work. A more typical fan than the two attractive women from Saturday, except with better personal hygeine than the normal nerds that I attract.
Funnily enough when we were on telly, me and Stew did get recognised by a lot of homeless people, which always slightly confused me. Did they all have portable tellies? Is that really what they were spending their money on? Or is liking Lee and Herring the first step on the spiral down to drug or alcohol abuse and destitution? Or the last step maybe?
But it's been a while since this has happened to me and it is extremely unusual for someone to actually remember my name.
Of course, now he knew who I was happy to stop and talk to him and my face of studied disdain turned into a broad smile. He said, "Come on mate, I'm a big fan. You've got to give me something."
Hypocritically, I was now happy to give him a few coins. I would have felt a lot happier about myself if I'd given him a pound before he'd recognised me. But I chatted with him for a bit and again, it was nice to have been remembered, even if in doing so I had had another character flaw squarely pointed out to myself.
Happily he couldn't remember Stewart's name, which although not as good as Stewart becoming a tramp himself, came a close second. And typically the person he was with had no idea who I was. We chatted for a while and then I shook his filthy hand. Unfortunately the vain and nasty side of me that I had already exhibited, subconsciously reappeared as I immediately looked at my own hand to see if any dirt or germs had been passed on to me. I wished I had waited til I got round the corner before making this rude gesture, but I don't think he spotted me.
Of course, this might all have been quite a clever ruse. If you are ever thinking of becoming a tramp, it is probably worth spending some time now, learning the names and faces of obscure people on TV, who you imagine will never be successful enough to stop taking public transport. Then when they pass you in future years you can name-check them and they will be so flattered to be recognised (and also ashamed to have been recognised when they've shown no human charity) that they will give you a much bigger donation than they would have ever given you, even if they hadn't been tight-wads. It will also be worth investing some of this extra money in a pocket sized TV, so you can have a vast array of new hypocritical and shallow celebrities to lure into your money making trap.
It's a licence to print money.

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