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Slade-Dropper


Today, I became what I most despise: a name-dropper.
 
I promise it wasn’t intentional. It was also justified within the context of my conversation. This doesn't matter; I still did it.
 
I was discussing my least favourite episode of Doctor Who (the one that features Peter Kay) when I mentioned, without irony, that Noddy Holder told me he was lovely.

The reverberation as his name hit the ground would have stretched as far as Guernsey. It probably had more impact than when Noddy shouts, “It’s Christmas”.

It’s worth clarifying that I’ve only met him once; it’s not as if we have each other on speed-dial. Paul McCartney has also called me “man” on two separate occasions, but that’s another story.

Thankfully, I have enough self-awareness that this won’t become a habit. If I ever do it again, you can slap me in the face.

(Though Dave Hill might step in to break things up.)

 
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