Yeah, I know, fun times.
But the highlight that tops them all was seeing the magician Paul Daniels and his wife Debbie at a garage on the way home. He's just the sort of b-list celebrity that I'd expect to bump into at a grim, nondescript service station.
I wonder if that's his Saturday afternoons... driving around middle England making pointless detours into garages under the pretense of buying wine gums, a paper, a ginsters pie, or anything else that won't make his wife suspect he's actually just looking for an opportunity to be recognized again, to perform impromptu tricks on weary travelers that are utterly thrilled to have bumped into the great Paul Daniels. To have an audience once more.
After seeing them in real life I can now say for sure that he's definitely punching above his weight. Debbie has still got it...
Not sure if Paul ever had it in the first place.
I expect he loves it when he's stopped by strangers and asked if they can take his and Debbie's picture. If my phone had had any battery I'd of asked for a picture too, after all, it's not everyday you bump into a national star.
Except rather than ask to take his picture I would of handed him my phone, put my arm around his wife and said 'make it a good one would you pal'.
I wonder how he'd take it? Probably by making my phone 'magically' disappear, grabbing Debbie by the arm and dragging her to the car muttering something like 'you're not a bloody glamour girl are you? So don't act like one then, you're a magician's assistant, you're my assistant, and you always bloody will be Debbie, always... Now, let's get home, have a nice cuppa and practice that new trick, eh, you can try on that new outfit I brought for you too'.
All in all it was one of the more memorable service station visits. For me at least. Paul Daniels on the other hand, I expect that it was a tad disappointing for him, not at all like the heady days of the early 90's when he had his own T.V show and was being greeted up and down the country like a national hero by hoards of families waving his picture for him to sign, children and adults alike practically begging him to perform a trick.
Instead, he gets me.
I bet every time he pulls off the motor way and into a service station there's always that faint glimmer of hope he'll be asked to perform again. Would stuffing one hundred coloured handkerchiefs up his jacket sleeve that same morning end up being worth it?
Or, like so often before, will it be a complete waste of time and effort that only ever results with him taking it out on his poor wife when they get home? It will be her job to not only bear the brunt of his anger but also to calm him down afterwards by whispering soothing words into his ear and stroking him to sleep. On particularly bad nights I imagine he wakes up in a cold sweat calling for the head of Derren Brown, 'that bastard confidence trickster, bring me his head!'
Actually I feel a bit sorry for Paul Daniels, it must be hard to keep up with the modern magicians like Derren Brown and David Blaine. As the saying goes, you can't teach an old dog new tricks.
I wish I'd said something to him now, instead of awkwardly trying to pretend I didn't know who he was. He knew I knew who he was, he knows that everybody knows who is. He's fucking Paul Daniels. By that reasoning, he also knows I ignored him, I choose not to say 'hey, Paul, love your stuff man, you're great'. I cold shouldered a national hero, possibly the most loved magician this country has ever produced. What was I thinking!? I should be ashamed of myself.
I should be, but I'm not. In fact I quite like the idea that Paul and Debbie were lying in bed having this conversation...
'Debbie, can I ask you something?'
'Of course my darling, what is it?'
'I don't suppose you remember being in the service station earlier?'
'What one love? We went to eight today'.
'Erm, the one near Derby.'
'Yes, I think I remember. What about it?'
'It's just that there was a chap in there and well, he totally ignored me, he just looked straight through me, like, like I was just an ordinary man.'
'Oh, don't you worry about him silly, he knows who you are, he was just too shy to say hello.'
'Do you think so love? I mean do you really think so?'
'Yes my dear. Now close your eyes and go to sleep, it's been a busy day.'
'Okay... Love you.'
'N' night. Love you.'
