The Snug

We went to an art exhibition opening last night (a mate is the head technician at the the local University so deals with all the installations and stuff) which was full of overpriced tat but was made bearable by the knowledge that we were off to Waggamamas for some 2 for 1 noodle goodness afterwards.

The place was packed and consequently after I'd almost managed to remove my kneecap on a sharp piece of metal masquerading as a shelf under the table, we were sat quite close to another couple, neither of whom I knew. Dinner progressed, the food turned up at arbritary times as it always does and everything seemed normal. And then the weirdness happened.

The lad on sat next to us was telling his date (they went dutch on the bill so I assume it was a date) a story or anecdote which ended with the loud exclaimation "And it was Alex Walsh!" (which is the pseudonym I use in the actual reality I inhabit). He said it loud enough that we all looked at him but he was oblivious.

Dammit, I wish I knew what they were talking about O_o.

None of us recognised either of them and Alex Walsh isn't exactly a common name (okay, there's a rather irritating American folk singer with the same name that keeps me well down the Google ranking)...