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 This
was a taxi driving day and I had accepted an account trip. The
name of the account rang no bells and I just assumed it was
someone’s private account as the passenger’s name was the same
as the account name. It was in NW8 and at first the trip details
made it look like a Westminster job – but this was definitely no
TaxiCard ride…
As I pulled up outside the account address, several paparazzi were
already standing around waving an assorted range of high-end
cameras – and at my empty cab! Not too comfortable facing the
other side of a lens for a change, I donned my dark glasses and
Dial-a-Cab cap. Just then and with his usual impeccable timing,
Editor Al called and I related the scene before me. I asked him
if he had heard of the lady whose name was on the terminal?
He quickly Googled the account holder’s name revealing her
to be the daughter of a well known singer from a folk/rock group
formed in 1969 and that she had an album due out in August.
"I don’t want you to look a pillock, so this is her background,"
Call Sign’s Ed continued, while giving me a stream of
information about my passenger and expressing the hope of my
taking a photo of her holding the latest issue of Call
Sign Magazine! However, we were both rather
puzzled as to why the daughter of a singer whose name was rarely
heard outside of folk and oldie radio station circles, should
have attracted the attention of such a large group of paparazzi?
I rang the bell and a lady’s voice asked me to drive round to the
back door. Embarrassingly, I had to explain that a growing
number of paparazzi were blocking my route and that I’d have to
wait out front. An unusual word to come out of a lady’s mouth –
not, I believe actually aimed at me personally – followed. Then
the lady’s head appeared through an open window, suggesting in
rather graphic language where the photographers could go! I
still had no clue as to who she was other than whatever info was
on my terminal - plus that of the Ed.
Thirty minutes later and after two advise arrivals – my
passenger came rushing through the door sporting a pair of sun
glasses and a big floppy hat. She virtually threw herself into
the taxi and called out even before closing the door… "Go, go,
go!" We roared off down the road, chased by the aforementioned
gentlemen of the |
press corps on
their motorbikes!
Eager to please the boss, I told the passenger that my Editor was a
big fan of her mother and we knew that she herself had an album
coming out soon. Could I take a photo at some convenient moment
on the journey?
That moment never came, as the ‘paps’ swirled around us for the
entire length of the journey. They followed us to our
destination, snapping away on the move as I weaved through the
heavy traffic trying to avoid the stares of pedestrians who were
pointing at my passenger.
As she got out, the passenger told me: "You must be confusing me
with someone else, my name is Sienna Miller and I’m an actress!"
The conversation that ensued between the Editor and myself shall
remain private; sufficient to say that his desire to avoid my
looking like a pillock didn’t go very well! As for me, I don’t
mind wheelchairs, pubs et al, but I might change my attribute
list to exclude anyone who uses an alias!
Alan Green (E52)
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