Who am I...

Last night Mrs S and I escaped from our prospective hell-holes and headed to a gin bar for some serious catching up.  We'd only been in there one minute (she at the bar getting the first round in, me in the comfy sofa) when a rather ancient gentleman in a rather suspect Christmas jumper, sidled up to me, and said, 'You look like that actress.  Has anyone ever told you that?'

'Who?  Daisy Duck?' I answered, trying to add a little humour to a rather awkward situation.

'No!' he said, 'Don't put yourself down.  I can't remember her name, but I do know she's British'.

Well that narrowed it down a bit. By now, Mrs S was glancing over her shoulder and making a face which said something along the lines of, 'I can't leave you alone for one minute can I?'

He was nothing if not persistent.  'Has anyone ever told you that you look like a film star?'

Rooting around in the murky depths of my youth, I had a sudden light bulb moment.  'When I was a lot younger, I was told I looked a bit like Meg Ryan from When Harry Met Sally'.

'Oh dear god no', was his response, 'it's nobody that glamorous'.

I said to him that I was 'very sorry, but I didn't have a clue who he was thinking of' and I opened my bag pretending to look for something.  Looking up, he hadn't moved.

'Oh, you're still here', I said with rather a stiff smile.

'It's really bugging me', he said.  Not as much as you are bugging me, I thought.  

'Are you here alone?' he asked.  'Oh no, I said rather too quickly, and rather too loud, I'm here with my friend. She's at the bar', I said, nodding towards Mrs S.  

'That's my wife', said Insulting Bad Jumper Man.  'No', this said super slowly, 'the lady next to your wife is my friend'.

Trying to draw some kind of closure, I said to him that I hoped he wasn't thinking of Judi Dench as she's substantially older than me.

He snorted.  He actually SNORTED.  'You should be so lucky dear'....

And we hadn't even started on the gin at that point...