stan2a10shun writes:
“The story of Oliver Reed brought back memories of my ship’s visit to St Peter Port in Guernsey in May 1981. A few of us were ensconced in a local hotel bar watching the Spurs v Man City FA Cup final and in comes Oliver Reed, obviously looking for someone to get bladdered with (and we weren’t really refusing).
“He was extremely loud, entertaining and generous. At chucking out time, Ollie had called Josephine [Burge; his then-girlfriend] to pick him up. As we waited for taxis, there he stood, leant against the hotel wall, jacket in the crook of his elbow, shirt tail flapping, pissing like a fucking elephant, rivers of it cascading down the cobbled street as tourists passed laughing and pointing – and Jo stood in her overcoat and slippers jangling the car keys impatiently.” |