The Price of Fame

Gah!

I get so cross, without real justification, at the Duran Duran tourists that linger outside my house. Sorry if I've said this before, but the bus stop directly in front of my kitchen window is a magnet for twenty-something foreign scum students with obviously far too much time on their hands.

I came downstairs to make my lunch at 1pm today, and when I left the kitchen having washed up etc. at 2.15 they were still there! Every five minutes one or several of them would break off from the pack and go and have a sneaky glimpse at Simon and Yasmin's spacious, well-appointed detached house (next door to my potential filleed 60s ex-council flat), stand there for 30 seconds trying not to look interested and then return to show their mates the digital snap they've taken of a view that's easily visible by, um, peering round a wall.

(apologies for the poor quality of the above photos. Dirty kitchen window + digital zoom != David Bailey)

At one point, a linen-cleaning service van pulled into the drive, under the awed gaze of the badly-dressed throng (what is it with foreign Durannies? They all seem to be gothy or slightly alternative - this is Duran Duran, for heaven's sake, not Marilyn Manson!). Their astonishment must have prevented them from figuring out that if a local artisan is delivering something to the house, someone will have to open the door. I mean, they can't be waiting for hours and hours just for the sake of proximity? Can they?

Update: it's 3pm and they're still there.

On a positive note, one of them very, very nearly got run over as she went for a daring glimpse from the *other* side of the road. Gasp! On the negative side, she didn't, and did a stupid not-getting-squished dance instead.

Next week: I go for a barbecue round Heaven 17's house.

Posted by biondino at November 25, 2002 02:59 PM