ITN Editors Dictate Our Nations Youth!

One of my most keenly-felt embarrassing moments occur in lifts. Not just due to to the computer voice stating “going down” in such a way I feel I can almost hear the silicon eyebrows waggling.

Picture the situation: you step into the lift and just as the door is closing, someone breathlessly manages to get there in time and apologetically states “3, please”. I press the 3 button and the lift doors close (for some reason 90% of my jobs I’ve been situated on the second floor, I have no idea why) and then we stand there for half a minute in excruciatingly agonising silence, although sometimes there is a trailed off sentence or two.

Now imagine the same situation with somebody who’s famous. It just doesn’t bear thinking about.

Luckily today’s celebrity encounter took place outside.

I was walking along the road in my lunch hour shoving an avocado and mozzarella baguette into my mouth when I saw Sir Trevor McDonald walking the other way.

I thought I should shout something at him, like:

The magazine show that you front has a slightly more sensationalistic approach than the equivalent shows on the BBC.

or, more succintly:

Bong!

But I didn’t, and he walked past with his two friends laughing at some joke or other. So I returned to my baguette.