Driving back from Wimborne, I stopped off at a service station for a coffee. It was a Starbucks. I've been in there 100s of time before and no one working there has ever shown any personal interest in me before (and there was that time when the barista laughed openly in my face because of my choice of moustache), but today the young lady behind the counter asked my name. Oh yeah, I may be 44 but I've still got it.
But as I sat drinking my coffee at a table near the counter I heard her ask everyone the same question and some of them were really ugly. Initially I thought it was a disgrace that Starbucks was employing such nymphos. But some people on Twitter suggested she was only doing this because it was a new Starbucks policy. I was shocked.
Just like an entertainer loving everyone in their audience or a dry cleaner loving all their customers if you find out that the person behind the counter at a coffee shop is only asking you your name because they're asking everyone their names, especially if it turns out they are following a directive from management to do so then it makes the whole gesture meaningless and more offensive than them saying nothing. You'd have to be an idiot to be impressed that someone is calling you by your name because they have to.
Which made me feel sorry for all the other customers who the girl was doing this for, because they didn't realise this and were all smiling and feeling special. But they weren't. Only I was, because I could tell from the way she had asked me my name because she was genuinely interested in me. There is nothing that 20 something girls working in a coffee shop at 11am want more than a short fat 44 year old Charlie Boorman lookalike.
I had a pretty full day in London town, going to my house to look at how things were going (they're still mainly on the destruction phase, but slowly things are taking shape), then to my management company to sign off the budgets for this year's Edinburgh, then into town to have a second fitting for the suit (it didn't look much different to last time if I am honest - I hope it'll be ready in time) and then on a whim I decided to get my hair cut (I am going my Edinburgh photo session on Monday so thought I should have a trim). The hairdresser was quite chatty and seemed a bit over excited, but you know, a lot of hairdressers are like that, so I didn't pay too much attention. We chatted a bit and I was telling him how much time I was spending on the road at the moment. About ten minutes into the conversation he asked if I went round the country on my motorbike. Of course it was still possible that he was a fan of AIOTM (aiotm) and joining in with the joke, but I was pretty sure that he thought I was Charlie Boorman. I told him I was not Charlie Boorman and he admitted that he thought I was. I had been introduced to him as Richard and he clearly didn't know who Charlie Boorman was and he did ask "the bloke who went round the world with Ewan McGregor" which again might have put his down as a fan of mine taking the piss. But he wasn't. He was disappointed that he wasn't cutting the hair of someone famous. I think he'd even been telling the other people who worked there that I was the motorbike guy. Sorry to let him down.
And what if the girl at Starbucks had been so impressed because she thought I was Boorman. She'd still need to ask my name because "bloke who motorcycled around the world with Ewan McGregor" wouldn't fit on the cup. Perhaps I should just go round the world pretending to be Charlie Boorman, doing all kinds of depraved and illegal things and leave him to take the rap. This might be an outlet for Me2 to carry on living once I am married. It could be a bit like the Prince and the Pauper. Think I might suggest it as a new sitcom. This could be the way back to TV. I love hooking up with the other shit one from a double act.
