My good friend John McIlroy and I are off to the City Varieties in Leeds tonight to see brilliant Portstewart funnyman/eyebrow professor Jimeoin do his thing.
Whilst there (and possibly even before), I will drink more than I should. Then after the show, I will ask Jimeoin to sign a DVD and, whilst smiling inanely, I'll tell him that I'm from Coleraine and will actually be in Portstewart tomorrow evening myself. And isn't that incredibly fascinating.
He will then smile politely back and nod, before indicating that there is someone else behind me in the queue, so could I please **** off.
Happens every time.