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Chance Encounters

reverendhornibastard

Depraved Deacon of Degeneracy

I traveled the world on business trips since before some of you mongers were born. All that world travel was not as glamorous as some people think. There was lots of jet lag, food poisoning in third world countries, lost luggage, exotic women, exotic rashes and dysentery. But there were also chance encounters with celebrities and political luminaries.

Benazir Bhutto - I flew on the same plane with her between Karachi and Islamabad. I didn’t even know she was on the plane with me until we deplaned in Islamabad. She was not yet Pakistan’s prime minister at the time.

Megawati Sukarnoputri - I was in the first class lounge with Mrs. Hornibastard #3 at the Jakarta airport when Megawati Sukarnoputri came in. They sat her in a part of the first class lounge that had been cordoned off for her. She was no longer president of Indonesia at the time.

Prince Charles - I was crossing Charing Cross Road in London’s West End when a limousine pulled up and Prince Chuck got out and waved to the small crowd before entering a theatre. He made me feel good about myself. He is so much uglier than I ever was.

Princess Anne - I had been jogging along London’s Victoria Embankment and was stopped by the curb at the intersection across from Big Ben waiting for the light to change. I saw Princess Anne sitting in the back seat of a car stopped in traffic barely 5 feet from where I was standing. She had this look on her face that suggested she thought I looked really smelly (which I surely was after a long jog on an uncharacteristically warm day in London).

Prince & Beyoncé - Prince and Destiny’s Child were both scheduled to perform at the coliseum across the street from the hotel in Tallahassee where I was staying on business. At the time, I had not yet heard of Prince or Destiny’s Child (or Beyoncé). But, whoever they were, I figured they were apparently very popular and they were evidently staying at the same hotel with me. Security was tight and extra security guards were constantly busy shooing out young fans who managed to get inside the hotel. The restaurant in the hotel where I was having lunch was empty except for three young women sitting together at a table near me. From time to time a scrawny, little guy who was clearly stoned would stumble through the restaurant, annoy the three young women who would immediately tell him to get lost. He would then stumble back out, bumping into my table along the way nearly knocking over my beverage. He did this repeatedly while I was eating. I was becoming very annoyed and was ready to punch out the goofy little fucker. I eventually figured out that the three young women were Destiny’s Child and the stoned little shit was Prince.

Peter Garrett - I sat across from Peter Garrett (lead singer for Midnight Oil) in the British Airways first class lounge at Heathrow Airport. He was quiet and spent the entire time with his face buried in the Financial Times.

Jason Robards - I was about to board a flight out of LAX when Jason Robards suddenly emerged from the jetway. I don’t know why he waited so long to deplane. I thought he looked like his robard was giving him a lot of pain. He probably was feeling mighty bad. He died of lung cancer a few months after I came nose to nose him at the entrance to the jetway.

Kirstie Alley - I was in the first class lounge at LAX trying to get some work done in the room where they had all the business cubicles. I remember it was very full of business travelers trying to get some work done. But there was this one bitch hollering at someone on her cell phone. She went on and on and was pissing off everyone else. Some people were already telling her to please shut the fuck up. She just ignored them. I stood up to see who was causing such a ruckus. There was Kirstie Alley pacing back and forth, screaming into her cell phone.

Ernest Borgnine - I crossed paths with Ernest Borgnine late one night on W. 44th Street near Times Square. He seemed to be afraid of me. I wondered why. I was a young man wearing a leather jacket. Perhaps he thought I was going to mug him.

Dustin Hoffman & Robin Williams - These two guys walked right past me and my wife as we sat on a bench one evening in London’s Hyde Park. I had not noticed them when Mrs. Hornibastard #2 suddenly exclaimed, “Look! It’s Dustin Hoffman and Robin Williams!” I looked up as both of them strolled past us, staring at Mrs. Hornibastard #2. They had with this look on their faces that seemed to plead, “please be quiet. Don’t draw attention and leave us alone!” I asked Mrs. Hornibastard #2 to settle down and let them enjoy their quiet, anonymous stroll through the park.

Muriel Hemingway - I stood in line right behind Muriel Hemingway waiting to board a flight from San Francisco to Salt Lake City. On the flight I sat one row back and across the aisle from her. I stared at her ass throughout the the entire flight. When she got up to use the lavatory I resisted the temptation to get up and go sniff the seat she in which she had been sitting.

Lou Reed - While making my way through the international terminal at the Newark airport, I ran smack into the rock ‘n’ roll animal himself - Lou Reed. I was surprised at how small and how old he looked.

Hulk Hogan - We shared a flight from Dallas to a Tokyo. He was wearing the same weird, brightly colored spandex shit he wore in the ring. I decided not to tell him how tacky I thought his choice of travel attire was.

Arnold Palmer - My flight from San Francisco to Singapore was supposed to make a refueling stop in Hong Kong (that alone tells you how long ago this was). But Hong Kong was fogged in. We flew around waiting for the fog to clear until fuel ran low. We had to land in Taiwan. So many flights had been diverted from Hong Kong that we were forced to land at a military air base in Taiwan. No one was allowed to get off the plane. There was an older guy in first class with me who was drunk as a skunk, happily jaw-boning with anyone who approached him. He looked familiar to me but I couldn’t place him. He certainly seemed popular with everyone else. He eventually walked up to me and gave me an Arnold Palmer lapel pin. But for that, I would never have known who that drunk old fucker was.