Monday, 4 February 2013

In which I don't know who you are

Maybe it’s because I’m not a celebrity, not someone whose famous name elicits wonder and marvel in others that it’s alien to me, but I’ve never understood anyone who’d use the phrase “don’t you know who I am?” in order to get their own way. It smacks of spoilt starlets desperate to get into oversubscribed clubs; people who’ve been dragged up without a manner to their very being; and dodgy autobiographies by Piers Morgan.

The Writer was at a press event last week when a woman at his table declared – declared, that is; not admitted, confessed, or had it otherwise wrung out of her under duress. She willingly and proudly stated the fact – she’d “had to” whip out the phrase recently having been sat at a less-than-satisfactory table at a restaurant in New York (that, quelle horreur, she’d had to book and pay for, as if the fact of handing over cash for something was enormously beneath her. Not entirely sure she should be allowed to eat out on a regular basis if she can’t get her head round the business model of a restaurant).

The idea of ever saying anything or doing anything like that is entirely alien to me, and makes my skin veritably crawl with the awkwardness of it all (a bit like that yellow string vest in the latest episode of Girls. Shudder).

Surely by asking The Dreaded Question, which is less of a question than it is an aggressive (and misconceived) statement of belief that you’re a superior being to all those around you, you’re only setting yourself up for a fall. Clearly, the person on the receiving end either doesn’t know who you are, or you’d already be getting the special treatment, in which case, stating that you’re someone special is likely to have rather less than the desired effect; or they do know who you are, and have decided that you’re not worth it.

Either way, asking the question makes you look like a grade-A idiot.


James Lewis said...

Good post.
My favourite 'Do you know who I am?' story has to be the Z list reality celeb who when asking said question at the front of a queue at an airport check-in, was replied to by the check-in girl announcing to the rest of the queue 'There's a woman here who deosn't know who she is. Does anyone know?'.

cjmpowell said...

Drat I was about to drop the same story as above but replacing the check-in girl with my old head doorman in a nightclub queue. A standarised response I think.

fwengebola said...

This reminds me of the story of the gent who objected to queueing up outside the Establisment in the 60s. Apparently he yelled to Peter Cook, 'Don't you know who I am?' who in turn yelled out to the crowd, 'This man doesn't know who he is. Does anyone else?'

Well, goodbye.

fwengebola said...

Yes, and I'm now aware I'm repeating an earlier comment. Sod it.

Blonde said...

I sort of feel I can leave one reply to you all here... Seems it is the only response to such a tasteless question.

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