On a recent business trip I was luxuriating in the Upper Class cabin of a Virgin flight when I noticed two people get on the plane at the last minute, and sit three rows in front of me. The lady had an armful of designer shopping bags and the gentleman a full length cashmere coat and matching trilby. Not your average passengers.
And then I saw the side of the man’s face and had a light bulb moment. Surely that isn’t? It is! It was only Mark Hamill. Being a massive Star Wars fan I was beside myself with glee. Mark frickin Hamill, on my plane, 3 seats away! Nobody else seemed to notice, or were playing it so cool they were in cryogenic stasis. Not me. After plucking up courage, I went and sought his autograph.
He asked who to dedicate it too – David, of course – and what I was doing on this trip. I blabbered about my book coming out soon and he asked for my surname so he could look out for it. Now, I realise that the chances of him actually remembering to look out for it are roughly the same as the odds C3PO gives the Millenium Falcon of successfully navigating an asteroid field. But hey, it was nice of him to pretend. And he shook my hand afterwards. Charming guy.
Later, towards the end of the flight there was the usual rush to use the toilets. As I came out of one of the cubicles, Mark was standing there waiting to go in. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so just smiled and he said thank you. Man, I wish I had a time machine so I could go back to that moment and whip out a witty one-liner that would ensure he’d never forget me. Luke, it is your destiny? May the flush be with you? The best I can come up with: Ahh, you pee too?