One day I was driving through the centre of town with Fred. A lot of our deliveries were in the West End - delivering Dunhill lighters and other stuff to posh west end shops (including Dunhills itself in Jermyn Street). This was in the early eighties, when I was a lot younger, and there was no such thing as congestion charge. The van I usually drove was an old Ford Transit with sliding doors. This was great in the hot weather, as you could leave the whole side open as you drove around town, catching a breeze. Anyway, this particular day I was driving up Wardour Street, when some bloke stepped out into the road in front of the van without looking. I slammed the breaks on, swerved to avoid him, and in traditional van driver style screamed "Why don't you fucking look where you're fucking going, you twat!". I stared at the bloke. He looked exactly like Gene Kelly. I started to drive away "He looks like Gene Kelly" I said to Fred. "He does, Dave" said Fred, "It probably is him. We are in Wardour Street just by Warner Brothers you know." "Naah, don't be ridiculous" I said.
Later that evening I turned on the telly to watch the news. Last item on the news: Gene Kelly in London to make a special appearance on Morecombe and Wise. Well I never, Fred was right.
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