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Thursday, November 29, 2007

If there's one thing I've learnt since I moved to Brighton (and to be honest there probably isn't), it's that the best place to meet celebrities is in charity shops. Just two short months after manhandling Dora Bryan in the Marie Curie shop, I've gone and bumped into Preston from The Ordinary Boys in the British Heart Foundation.

He was with a young woman (who I'm sure the tabloids would refer to as a mystery blonde), and was buying a pair of jeans and a top. He claimed he was doing some painting (so it was a brush with fame for both of us) and needed something to wear, but it's only eight days since his divorce came through, so I expect Chantelle's taken him for all he's got, and the man's penniless and relying on charity. Much like myself.

Anyway, if anyone wants to contact Heat magazine's 'Spotted' page, it was 12:10pm at the London Road branch, and he doesn't look as tall in real life.

But celebrity encounters aside, I think I'm getting far too dull and responsible in my old age. My favourite electric instrumentalists The Deal Was For The Diamond (that name trips off the tongue and falls flat on its face) were playing a gig at the Pavilion Tavern last night, and entry was free. Yes, free. It's almost as if they know I'm a fan. So did I go? No, I did not. I wanted to, but the DWP, in their infinite wisdom, decided to postpone their imminent strike action just long enough to book me in for a 12-month review at the Jobcentre this morning. So rather than stay out late, rocking with the kids at the Pav Tav, I decided to go to bed early. It's what Peter Hain would have wanted.

Anyhoo, it was all worth it. I spent an enjoyable half hour at the Jobcentre chatting to the same guy I saw last time. His hayfever's cleared up since then. I showed him the list of jobs I've applied for in the past year, he looked quite impressed, so I told him I'd applied for a number of writing jobs and asked if that could be reflected in my Jobseeker's Agreement. He said maybe, then printed out the details of a Janitor's job in Hove, and asked me to sign on the dotted line. I expect he wanted proof that I could write. He'll probably change my agreement next time.