Do I Know You?

About as thinly disguised as a bear would need to be in order to confuse me.

This is a prelude to what is now known amongst my friends as:
"The Beetroot Incident".
That story will come tomorrow but for now let me just explain my ineptitude to recognise my own Mum in the street let alone anyone semi famous.

I have to admit, when it comes to celebrities you could plonk Brad Pitt on my doorstep and I probably wouldn't recognise him.
Okay maybe not Brad Pitt but for the sake of this story lets insert some slightly more B grade celeb in his place. In fact I'd be less likely to believe it was him at all then guess it was him in the first place.

Anyway having worked in South Yarra, the upety yuppyty capital of Melbourne for several years I got to see my fair share of celebs of various alphabetical grading.

Like the time I swore to my client that I absolutely knew her from school or something but as it turns out she frequents my living room every night at 6 o'clock thanks to the Channel 10 news.

Or the time I condescendingly (unintentionally of coarse, I didn't mean it to come out that way) congratulated Karen Martini for being so accomplished while I'm sure she knew I didn't even have an inkling of who the hell she was… regardless of the fact she's a regular judge on Master Chef, owns 2 swanky restaurants and is a feature food presenter on Better Homes & Gardens.
I think what gave it away was when she told me she had a cooking segment on Better Homes and I asked what channel that was on...

Or how about the time I sat around paying out the rich kids for naming the Botanical Gardens "The Tan" (for short I assumed) when in reality that is the actual name for the track, used by locals to jog on, that runs through the gardens. Derp!

I could go on for days about all my embarrassing incidents but the pièce de résistance of my stories (aside from seeing the look on Megan Gale's face when we were too booked up to fit her in during her "surprise visit") was my run in with Olivia Newton John. More on that tomorrow.

But I'll finish for now by saying to any celebs out there, at least you know you won't get any special treatment from me.
No gushing to be found here. You hear that Mr Pitt?
I promise to treat you just like any other regular Joe Black.
Everyone gets the exact same standard of service with me and you can rest assured you wont need any disguises if you ever chose to stay anonymous in my salon. Lady Gaga I'm lookin' at you.