Memoir Monday: My Brush with Fame

There have been far too many stories of encounters with celebrities (I'm looking at you, Alex) for me not to share my little tale.

I'm doing this as part of Memoir Monday, as started by Travis at I Like to Fish. If you want to join the fun, head on over, grab the button and get gabbin'!

So this story is set way back in time, during my... ahem, more party-girl kinda days, circa 1996/97. My two girlfriends and I are at one of our usual haunts, Shooters Bar in Surfers Paradise. Classy, oh yes! This kind of faux-Western establishment was famous back in this day for hosting Melrose Place night, where you could get smashed on margaritas whilst sitting in a bean-bag watching what that crazy Kimberley was up to now. That, and they had a sunken bar so all the cute bartenders looked like Munchkins (and were right at eye-to-boob-level).

So we are kicking along, my two girlfriends are taken, and I'm fresh from a break up and right smack in the middle of the "all men are bastards" phase, so we are just out for girly-bonding time, no man-hunting on this particular evening.

Then, not too far into the night, up bounces this scruffy little surfer dude, eager as a puppy at the park. He first zooms right in on Girlfriend Number One, our token hot friend, but when she demonstrates in a very clear and precise manner how not interested she is, he zones in on us mere mortals. We feel a little bit sorry for him, plus he really does have a very cute smile, so we chat a little bit. This sounds like we're being quite nice to the poor guy doesn't it? Not so. See, this kid looks about 12, and has an eager earnestness that is quite out of place in this bar full of guys trying to look cool and bored. This results in us smirking into our drinks, and I'm not denying we may have asked him if his Mother knew he was out this late.

He took our ribbing with good humour, saying the guys on his TV crew ribbed him about the same thing. Far from impressing us, this led to more eye-rolling and smirking. You see, ever since MovieWorld opened up on the Gold Coast, and started filming TV shows and movies on location, this had been a favourite pick-up tactic for guys on the make on the Gold Coast. I can't tell you the amount of "actors" I met out clubbing, trying to convince me that if I went home with them, I could "pop by the set" one day. Yeah, sure sunshine, just let me send the butler home to my castle to feed my corgis.

He assured us he was on the level, in fact he was here celebrating the wrap of a new TV series. We remained unconvinced, and went on our merry little way.

A week or so later, I was hanging out at Girlfriend Number Two's house, nursing a hangover and vegetating in front of the TV. I'm idly flicking through channels when she pipes up, "Hey, there's that guy from Shooters".

"Wha? Black Shirt Guy?" (a recent rebound flirtation)

"No! That kid that tried to pick up Trish."

"Oh, Smiley Scruffy Guy, right".

"Looks like he really did do a TV show."

"Huh, well there you go. Pass me the Berocca thanks."

Yes, the scruffy little surfer guy with the very cute smile actually did have a TV show. Some medieval thing where he wore a lot of leather. We occasionally watched scruffy surfer guy's show, and joked about imagine him becoming a huge movie star, and us the dunces that dissed him.

Turns out scruffy surfer guy did make a movie, then another, then a few more. Most notably, The Patriot, Monster's Ball and eventually, Brokeback Mountain. Yep, Heath Ledger.

Sigh...

In our defence, he did look VERY young.