SO there I was standing outside a drum and bass club in London town when, all of a sudden, there is a tap on my shoulder.
It’s rather late in the evening - somewhere around the 3.30am mark - and, having consumed an alcoholic beverage or three, it is fair to say I was excitable.
That is not to condone my behaviour, of course, but it is the only reasonable, logical and acceptable explanation which I can come up with.
Anyway, back to the shoulder tapping. Before I have a chance to turn around, a voice says to me: “Could I borrow a light?”
What happened next took my breath away.
As I turned around, I came face-to-face with a man. He was about my height, sporting designer stubble and the nicest, whitest teeth I’ve ever seen in my life.
The facial-recognition part of my brain sprang into action and, yes, I was rendered speechless, for before my very eyes was none other than Brendan Courtney.
Yes, that Brendan Courtney, the Irish Gok Wan.
“Oh ... oh ... oh my God ... oh my God ... oh my God ... Aggggghhhh!” - that is what came out of my mouth while, at the same time, I keep flapping my hands against his shoulders.
To say I nearly keeled over is to put it mildly.
I have actually never, ever, ever, ever been so excited in my entire life.
It is like I was possessed by the spirit of some psychotic Brendan Courtney über-fan.
All sense of calm, reason and cool went out the window. I was reduced to a blubbering, quivering, over-excited mess. It was utterly shameful behaviour.
“It’s like I’m meeting Brad Pitt; it’s like you are Brad Pitt, I can’t believe it, I’m so excited, I can’t believe it! Brendan Courtney ... wow.”
At this stage he is staring at me with a slightly shocked expression on his face and I believe there is a flicker of fear in his eyes.
I can’t be certain but at this juncture I may or may not have grabbed him in a bear hug.
For his part (I should point out, he was extremely gracious and understanding), all he managed was an “Are you Irish?” before I screamed “Yes!” and launched into more blubbering.
Somehow, he succeeds in getting a word in edgeways and throws me off guard by introducing his friend as his wife. This forces me to think for a moment, and I say, in a very high-pitched squeal: “Ooooooh ... really? Nice to meet you ...?”
Brendan then laughs and says “No! Not really” (ah, he’s so funny).
“Oh Brendan!” I coo. “Sure, you’re gas altogether.”
That may or may not be a direct quote, but I certainly uttered something along those lines.
At some point in between my breathless expressions of adoration, a nonsensical thought occurs to me which, I feel, I must share.
I recall that when Brendan took over from my (now former) favourite TV presenter Caroline Morahan on Off the Rails, I foolishly put him and Sonya Lennon into the Not Hot section on this here page.
This was news I simply had to share right there and then with Brendan.
I think I reasoned that it would be fake of me not to tell him of my previous misgivings about his role.
And so, I launch into what can best be described as a rant, which included random combinations of words such as “Blah, blah, blah, Caroline Morahan ... Blah, blah, blah ... Now I love you ... I don’t know if I love Sonya Lennon yet, though ... but I definitely love you ...”
The humiliating memories are really making me feel quite nauseous.
Brendan somehow managed to keep his cool (I’d imagine this is not the first time he has been assaulted in such a manner) and said: “Oh thank you” before slowly attempting to make his exit.
“Hey, hey, Brendan, where are you going? Don’t leave!” I shout as he and his friend attempt to make their getaway, but not before I make him pose for a photo.
As Brendan runs off into the night, I wave wistfully at him and turn to the bouncer on the door.
“Can you believe it?” I exclaim to him. “That was Brenan Courtney!”
“Never seen ‘im before in me life, love.”