Insulting Random Celebrities

We’ve all been in the situation. You’re at the pub with some friends. You’ve had a long day. And you start talking about someone. Maybe someone who has pissed you off over the course of that day. Maybe someone who really gets on your tits anyway. Or just a random person who has shredded your nerves. And you lay into them a bit. It is not big, it is not clever, but you do it anyway. Because you think you are doing it behind their back.

The problem is that they are actually behind your back, listening to every word you have to say.

I’ve been in that situation a few times before. And, last week, I managed to take it to a new high. Oh yes, I managed to diss a minor celebrity without realising he was sat behind me.

I was in a pub in Central London with a mate. He told me that he had been in the same pub the previous, where he had seen that guy from some BBC sitcom. After a certain amount of discussion, we established who he was talking about. The actor it turns out, is starring in a play just across the road. It looks smashing. If by "smashing" you mean "tedious crap".

My mate said “that’ll be why I saw him, then. Because he’s in that play."

Me: “Yeah, makes sense.”

My mate: “It doesn’t look great, does it?”

Me (a little too loudly): “Doesn’t look great? It looks like total fucking shite to me. I mean, seriously. The crap that somehow ends up on the stage. Does my head in.”

At which point my mate half smiled, half looked shocked. And with a gentle point he indicated to me that the celebrity in question was sat at the bar, well within earshot. He stayed there for about 10 minutes, his lanky frame hunched over the bar, before he got up and left. Looking mightily pissed off.

Of course, he might not have heard me. But I almost hope he did. In fact, I hope he did hear me, and went off, really motivated to prove me wrong, and gave the performance of his life and turned that risible looking production he currently stars in into theatre gold. And I hope everyone who saw the play enjoyed it. In fact, anyone who enjoyed Kris Marshall in Fat Pig last week should track me down and buy me a beer. If only so I can slag off other people completely unintentionally and without any provocation other than a deep distrust of the theatre.