I saw Andy Taylor walking into my local supermarket the other day. I don’t want to tell you which one because I don’t like to give the bastards any free publicity, and if I said where it was, they’d chase me next time I turned up there with my guitar and started playing outside because they’re bastards.

I was in the middle of a song – Don’t Look Back In Anger by Oasis – when I saw him walking across the car park. For a moment I was almost distracted enough to forget what I was singing, but I managed to keep it together so that no-one noticed. The words kept coming out of my mouth in time to the music, but in my head I kept hearing, ‘Fuckin’ hell. There’s Andy Taylor, the former lead guitarist with 1980s pop band, Duran Duran.’ I cut the song short as he reached the front door.

“Andy! Andy!” I shouted but he either didn’t hear me or he ignored me as he disappeared inside the shop. I hoped it was the former because I hate it when famous people are like that, acting all big-headed and ignoring you just because they’re rich and you’re busking out in the cold while a wee drunk woman dances in front of you in time to a different beat.

Carol Vorderman totally blanked me once, even when I told her I preferred her on Countdown to Rachel Riley. That’s not true, though Carol wasn’t to know that.

I decided to have a rest and wait until Andy came back out of the shop, so I sat down on the speaker and rested the guitar on my lap. I had a Star Bar in my pocket which seemed quite appropriate, and I nibbled it because it would be a while before I ate again.

When I saw Andy I was going to tell him that he was the reason that I started playing guitar. Famous people like it when you pander to their ego. That wasn’t true either. It was really Val Doonican. I saw him on the telly when I was only about six. He was playing the guitar and singing – I don’t remember the song – but it sounded amazing and I decided right there and then that that’s what I wanted to do. It’s unlikely I’ll ever see Val around here to tell him, though. I don’t even know if he’s still alive, but if I did see him, I’d tell him that Paddy McGinty’s Goat is one of the greatest songs ever written, and I wouldn’t be making that up.

After about twenty minutes, Andy Taylor reappeared carrying one carrier bag. I couldn’t make out everything that was in it, but a big plastic bottle of Irn Bru was sticking out the top.

“Andy!” I shouted, standing up. “Andy mate. You’re a legend.”

He was coming towards me but still he didn’t smile or nod or even acknowledge me.

I started playing Hold Back The Rain and singing. He glanced briefly in my direction but kept walking.

“Andy Taylor?” I said, stepping out in front of him.

“Sorry pal, you must have the wrong guy.”

“You’re not Andy Taylor?”

“No.”

“From Duran Duran?”

“No.”

“You’re a dead ringer for him.”

“Sorry.”

He walked round me and headed back towards his car. I followed him and noticed that he got into a black Corsa. It wasn’t really a rock star’s car, but it might have been his wife’s. I could have sworn it was definitely him, though when I thought about it, I remembered that the band were English and my Andy Taylor definitely had a Glasgow accent.