This is not about how I met Basket Mouth

Basket Mouth and I

 

This is about my husband and boyfriend of seven years- Haruna.

So I’m travelling en route Euston station to London, when I catch the image of Basket mouth and his signature “Fido dido” hair cut in front of me. Without thinking I say, “is that basket mouth?”, to which the owner of the head with said hair cut turns in response.

I only notice a handheld camera when he gestures to a young man to stop filming while he explains to me that he is in the middle of a shoot and isn’t supposed to be recognised by a fan. I’m not listening, only thinking about how I’m going to ask him for a photo, fan indeed that I am.

So we pose for a selfie while I’m gushing some nonsense about how he reminds me of Fido Dido from the 7up commercials back in the day (I know! No filter right?) and how good he actually looks in real life (I have no shame! Chai!). 
 

Picture taken, I wish him well barely noticing his crew’s camera is back on, taking footage of us.

Understandably, when I’m on the phone to Haruna a few minutes later, I’m still excited by the chance recognition of not only a familiar but popular face at the busy train station.

“I met basket mouth”, I gush into the phone. “I was the typical star struck fan”, I say, reporting myself.

“As you did for him, so will they do for you”, Haruna prays, dismissing my self consciousness with a prophetic reference to my future fans, so touched by my work they cannot mask their admiration, good will or sense of national pride.

I break into a wide grin.

I suddenly feel unable to delay my reunion with my family any further, as I head for my connecting train, forgetting my thoughts of basket mouth and his not so incognito shoot.

(I told you this was not about how I met Basket mouth! *wink wink*)