Okay, so fresh from spotting Claire Danes in my local Tesco the other day (see previous entry), yesterday I saw Sir Richard Attenborough driving slowly past my house in a very posh car that was far too large for him. He was, no doubt, heading off to work at Twickenham Film Studios, which are located 100 yards from my house and directly opposite St Margarets train station.
Two hours later, I was standing at the ticket booth in said train station renewing my monthly train pass when I realised that the guy waiting impatiently behind me was none other than Richard Schiff. Which meant that I was keeping TOBY ZIEGLER from THE WEST WING waiting.
You try remembering your Visa pin number when the White House’s Communications Director is suddenly standing behind you and you’re a humungous fan of his work. It’s bloody difficult.
It’s weird being a journalist because you meet famous people – including, occasionally, your heroes (stand up, Terry Gilliam) – all the time but you have to be professional about it. I’m surprisingly good at being able to interview someone I’m crazy about without them having a clue I’m a huge fangirl: otherwise, of course, I’d suck at my job. The only person I’ve ever found myself in pure, dry-mouthed awe over was Karl Urban, and that happened a full hour after I realised I wasn’t going to be interviewing him as planned, so when he sat by me and tried to make conversation I didn’t have my journo head on anymore and turned into a gibbering fool.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that even professional journalists who meet famous folk all the time get flustered when they bump into someone cool. And Richard Schiff? Cool. TOBY ZIEGLER, for heaven’s sake! In my local train station!
So now I’ve met Toby and Sam Seaborn… how many more White House staff are left? If I meet President Jed Bartlet in my local chippy I’m probably gonna faint.