I feel rather sorry for some of the backlash that those who have met Darren Criss have been getting. I mean, obviously, licking someone’s face should be the type of thing that should lead to a sectioning but I understand the war the brain and body fight when you meet an idol. The brain says, ‘be smooth, be cool, then they will become your best friend and introduce you to Madonna!’ The body says, ‘LOOK AT ME, I’M A DICKHEAD!’
In solidarity with dickheads everywhere, I have collated a list of all my all-time worst celebrity dickhead moments.
Boyzone- For some reason, my mother dressed me in tights, short shorts, a lace belly top and crimped my hair into a high ponytail. I was Madonna circa the 80s. I was also ten. I’m still not sure if my mother misheard and thought I was auditioning for Taxi Driver. Anyway, I got over-excited, climbed a five foot pillar, got stuck, began to cry and then fell off when Keith Duffy waved at me.
Embrace- This was my first ever stage door experience. I’ve had some odd ones, my personal favourite being approached by a man who held open his coat, looked around furtively, revealed a jacket lined with cans and then whispered ‘want some Pimms?’ This, however, nearly resulted in my death. It was February. In England. In the North. And snowing. I insisted, as it was my friend Marvystoop’s (hai, girl, hai) birthday, we wait and meet her favourite band. I started off chilly, then very chilly, then fuck me fuck it’s fucking chilly are you fucking chilly because I fucking am. Finally, I began to run a fever and lost the ability to stand up straight. I spent the next hour bent over in two staring at my toes and crying, the tears becoming ice as they hit the air. My friend begged me to go. The Hells Angels who were also waiting begged me to go. The Roadies gave up begging and took me inside the venue because I’d ‘gone fucking blue’. My friend finally convinced me that not meeting Embrace wouldn’t ruin her birthday, but my death from pneumonia would. I conceded the point. I began to hobble back to the hotel when YES! EMBRACE CAME OUT. I crawled back and got my moment. It was perhaps dampened by the fact that I had to be carried, wasn’t quite sure which ones were Embrace and which ones were passerbys and I got a picture with the band that looks like a Victorian death portrait.
Rufus Wainwright- Marvystoop and I were granted a private meeting with Rufus! We took full advantage of this by telling him we enjoyed his gig so much that we had illegally recorded the entire thing…
Abs from 5ive- Shouted ‘IT’S ABS FROM 5IVE!’ and then walked into a wall.
John Simm- Shouted ‘IT’S JOHN SIMM!’ and pointed at John Simm to confirm to him that he was indeed John Simm. Then attempted to follow John Simm through the fields of Glastonbury in a quick and furtive fashion and ran face first into…
Pete Doherty- Hurt my face. Lost John Simm.
Neil Tennant of The Pet Shop Boys- My friend: ‘Neil, your album Bilingual changed my life. It’s such an unsung piece of art that deserves an honoured place in British music history and I am so glad you made it. Thank you from all those that you have touched with your brilliant, inventive music. Thank you.’ Me: ‘…I liked that Go West.’
Ian McKellen- This is all Marvystoop’s! While Snicksness, Marvystoop and I were waiting for Rufus Wainwright (no illegal recordings this time) Ian McKellen walked out. Marvystoop very sweetly, very politely said: ‘Hello?’ to which he replied ‘GOOOOOOOOOOODDDDBBBYYYYYYEEEEE!’ and slipped into a waiting cab, then speeding off into the night. To date, greatest moment of all our lives.
Band Member of Unnamed Band- After he graciously and politely signed my autograph, I turned, waited until he had moved on and said: ‘Wow, I always thought he was a bit of a cunt but he was quite nice then.’ He had not moved on. I know; I know. Does it help that I had good reason to believe that he was a—-? No? Okay.
Band Member of Unnamed Band- Bumped into him at an airport. Had been sitting at a table for two hours with a cold coffee. On speaking with him I immediately downed the cup of cold dregs so I could say ‘Yeah, I totally had coffee with him’ except I don’t like to lie and told people this version instead, which just… resulted in sounding really, really weird.
Band Member of Unnamed Band- In response to ‘what did you think of the support act?’ made this noise ‘UGGGGGHHHHH’.
Unnamed Band’s After Party- Danced an Irish jig.
Darren Hayes/Savage Garden- Asked him what he used to whiten his teeth.
Darren Hayes/Savage Garden- He has a song called Conversations With God that has these lyrics: ‘I’m driving/I talk to God/ He’s screaming/I only nod’. Me: ‘Backseat drivers, eh?’ To this day, I cannot listen to this song.
Joseph Walker from StarKidd- Asked me and Marvystoop if we wanted to pass kisses onto Darren Criss through his face. Said no(!?).
Darren Criss- Don’t get excited. It’s not official. I was leaning cool and suavely on a parked taxi. I was leaning so coolly and suavely that a bunch of young women were staring at me. Flapping their arms. Tearing at their hair. Sobbing. Screaming. I was James Dean-ing them out of their fucking minds. But slowly, oh so slowly, I realised that the taxi was not parked. It was waiting for that moron to stop leaning on it so it could drive away and take Darren Criss with it. Shared look of horror through the window.
Chris Colfer- Don’t get excited. It’s not official. At Glee concert, I had seats with Snickness in the pit bit. It was all very very. Right up until the conclusion of Loser Like Me when Colfer spun round and threw a cup of confetti in my direction. Naturally, I reacted like any sane person does when a batch of harmless colourful paper graces their skin. I screamed and clawed at my face like it was hydraulic acid. He gave me a very worried, very scared and very I am not turning round ever again look.
Susan Downey Jr- Oh. There was a competition to go see Robert Downey Jr. on the Graham Norton show. You had to share if you had a funny story about meeting RDJ. I entered with ‘I have never met RDJ so do not have a funny story. Rectify both?’ Which, shockingly, worked. We were all sat down and happy and giddy waiting for the show to start. On the back of our chairs it said ‘RESERVED FOR ROBERT DOWNEY JR FANS’. A beautiful brunette and her friend from behind me inquired about the signs. I flipped my hair, I smiled smugly, I explained how we had them because we were super fans, I flexed my arms and made a noise like an eagle. Oh, Lord, to this woman I was a GOD. At least until RDJ came on and pointed to the beautiful brunette and explained she was his wife. I bragged. I bragged to Susan Downey Jr. I bragged to Susan Downey Jr that I had a chair.
I’ve found it’s best if I just avoid instances where a I might meet a celebrity now. In fact, I literally ran away from Mika. Well, that was more about the Mika of it all, I guess.