'Dylan, Dlyan!'
Alex didn't wait for me to get off the bus, he threw me off it before it got a chance to stop.
'Guess who's coming to our store...'
It was a shout more than a question, and a question so broad made my sarcasm kick in.
'Erm, Tony Robinson?'
'Who?'
'Tony Robinson. Played Baldrick in Blackadder.'
'No. He's not a celebrity.'
Depends how you define the word 'celebrity'. If it's falling out of a club at 4 in the morning with a slapper on your arm, then no. He's not. I see Tony falling out of a pub, instead.
'Freddie....Fisher.' He grinned.
'Ohhh....' I tried.
'I know.'
Freddie Fisher? Freddie? Fisher?
'What's he up to now?'
'Still on the show.' Alex replied.
The show. A TV show, I bet. How come I don't know who Freddie Fisher is? I feel so out of touch. I haven't got a Skype account or collect Subway tokens. I haven't lived, thinking about it. Now a big celebrity is coming to our store and I've no idea who he is.
'Yeah, got his autobiography out. He's doing a few signings.'
'How old is he?'
'About 24, i'd say.'
Jesus, I bet it's only 8 pages long. I wanted to come across as a cool, hip parade kind of guy, so my investigation into Freddie Fisher began.
'I love the show...' I smiled.
'Yeah, last night's episode was genius.' He giggled.
I suppose I could check the TV listings for last night, or look up all the shows that have been referred to as genius in the past. But Sharon interrupted me, crackling through the walkie-talkie at us.
'Porters, are you there?'
'Yeah, Sharon. What is it?'
'We need pens...marker pens...for Frankie whats-his-name.'
'Freddie!' Alex whaled at her through the radio.
'Freddie whats-his-name.'
Alex didn't look too pleased. He stormed off to the stationary shop for me to chase him. It turns out Freddie's 'people' had rang the store and stressed that he will only sign in red marker pens, to emphasize his love for the ladies. That sounds sweet. The kind of sweet that made me feel sick in the back of my throat.
We browsed the store, trapsing up and down the aisles. The store didn't need to be as big as it was, so it was filled out with pointless trinkets, 46 different kinds of paperweights and obsurdly overpriced DVD's.
'They don't have red marker pens.' I said, glaring at the wrack of pens and pen-based products.
'Just get blue. Or green.'
'That won't emphasize his love for the ladies.'
I can't believe I said that.
'It doesn't matter. What matters is that he's actually coming. a celebrity coming to our store.'
'Yeah, it's just like a normal person coming to the store. Only that person's in a TV show.'
'Yeah...' Alex shook his head in disbelief.
I strolled over the the counter where a girl was stood, arkwardly putting pads of paper into a bag. She handed it to a customer with no eye contact, no goodbye, just standing there with her arm outstretched, staring down at the counter. She looked terrified, as if one small gust of wind would blow her over.
'Do you have any red marker pens?' I asked politely.
'Erm...' I think she said. 'We have green ones...blue ones...'
'I know. Any red ones, though?'
'We have green ones...blue ones...' Counting them again on her fingers.
'I know.'
She didn't listen to me. Or she didn't hear me. He fuzzy black hair covered her ears. Maybe she chooses not to hear people.
'Purple ones...pink ones...'
'But no red ones? That's doesn't make sense.'
That make the bloke in the shirt and tie to her left flitch and bolt over to me.
'Excuse me? You're going to have to settle down a bit.' He said.
'I am settled down. I'm just asking for red pens.'
'We don't have any red pens. We have green ones...'
'Purple ones, pink ones, blue ones!'
'OK, sir. I'm going to have to ask you to leave.' He said bluntly, his fingers on the counter.
'Go on then!'
'Please leave.'
'Fine!'
'No, hang on!' Alex tried to intervine. 'Maybe we could buy pink ones and...'
'No!' The bloke shouted. 'Both of you, please leave.'
Kicked out of a stationary store. Banned from a stationary store. I'm so rock 'n' roll. Forget Skype accounts and Subway tokens, this is really living! Now we've no pens for a signing that's in one hour. And to make things worse...
'Porters. Porters, are you there?' Sharon squarked through the walkie-talkie again.
'Yes, Sharon.'
'He's arrived. Freddie Fishman has arrived.'
'Fisher!' Alex tried again.
'One problem.' She said. 'His car is stuck in the car wash.'
End of part one.
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