I assume that, like me, most people keep a well-guarded list of people to berate if given the chance and requisite immunity. Well, imagine my joy at finding myself at an England-Spain soccer game a few years ago. Seated five rows back at midfield, I had the soul-liberating pleasure of hurling insults at the very un-Metal soccerist David Beckham. No topic was off-limits as my big fat mouth stretched to accommodate the deluge of vulgarity and abuse: his hair, his droid wife, his ceaseless advertisements, his stupid hair, his awful play, his white shoes, the nub where his wang once was, his pointy wife, his hair, his wife's salon spas. And this was before he was bum-chums with Tom Cruise. Just imagine!
European people ruin already weak hash by adding cigarette tobacco, so I was suppressing a major barf-load by halftime. Yet, through the haze, I sensed relief in ol' Becks' stride as he took up position on the far side of the field for the second half. Until Saturday, that is, when my mind took control of some unwitting chump. WENN reports:
Soccer stud-turned-model David Beckham is playing down a security scare at Saturday's L.A. Galaxy game, during which an over-zealous fan had to be dragged from the pitch. Beckham admits he was a little wary ... 'He didn't have a smile on his face and he didn't have a Galaxy shirt on, so I didn't know if he was going to ... give me a hug or something else. Luckily, he just wanted to give me a high five and that was the end of it.'
Oh. Turns out the fan just wanted to kiss him. You win this round, David.