So, I was driving – correction: being driven home from M*nchester today, and on the motorway I noticed a black BMW in front with reg “CUE 147S”… a snooker player’s I deduced! (Really, I am just the sort of person Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would have written about, if he hadn’t have been too busy trying to scry fairies in his monacle.)
It was non other than Ian McCullough. I could tell, because his name was written on his car. As we pulled alongside, I waved. He saw me and smiled approvingly. He would have waved back I imagine, except for needing to keep two hands on the wheel. Snooker players: humble AND careful. Unlike Stephen Hendry, who’s just an arse.
So there you have it. In 10 years time when yours truly is signing autographs and having (women’s) underwear thrown at him, and NOT getting arrested for hanging around schools because I own the police, Ian McCullough can say “That guy waved at me in the car one time!” Of course, I’ll deny it, because I’ll be a celebrity then, necessitating my need to cut off all my current friends in favour of the socialites, act like I’m better than everyone else, walk around like the world owes me something, and basically live off my reputation instead of having a proper job.
And people say I don’t know where I’m going in life…