Years ago I worked for the GLC on their Gigs For Jobs Campaign. The deal was, you work for the GLC for free and then hang with the bands afterwards. I got to work taking ticket stubs at the Michael Sobel Sports Centre in Nth London while The Royal Family and New Order entertained the masses. I was a huge New Order fan.
After the gig I excitedly headed to the dressing room to meet my heroes. I walked in, made a bee line to Peter Hook, who turned round and uttered the immortal words, 'Just Fuck Off, whoever you are'.

Once asked them and the "lovely" Annie Nightingale to drink up in a club and was subjected to a barrage of abuse which included F*** Off.
Don't worry your hero won the day as when confronted by 3 very large security staff they then left with tails between their legs and one of them had left their wallet on a chair. The staff wish to thank you for the night out we had on the 400 quid that was left in the wallet and for the illegal substance that was ,of course, handed into the police (part of this is untrue).
Nice people who we served included
Norman Cook
Captain Sensible
Gary "Human Nature" Claill
Charlie Harper (UK SUBS).
Nicest "Celeb" I've come across, Ex England wicket keeper and test umpire Ian Gould
Biggerst K***- Jockey Walter Swinburn

This has got to have happened in Brighton - the Zap maybe?

I asked David Vine for his autograph at Bracknell Sports Centre. Superstars was being filmed there (the one where Kevin Keegan fell off his bike on the gravel runiing track).

He told me to F*** Off. He had work to do. I wish I knew then what I know now about the unique way that the BBC is funded.

Back in the days of yore, circa 1966, he affected an Eavis chin warmer, sans 'tache. With black kair and horn rims he had a look of Manfred Mann. When approached by 2 girls at Glasgow station, he took them home for activities related to the expletive used.
Never sure whether to believe him, not least as he is now the spit of Harold Shipman, as played by James Bolam in the drama-doc of a few years back....

F*** Off.

Although I'm not famous so it doesn't count.

Sorry.

As you were.

Never been told to eff off by anyone famous, but you can add the following to the nice list:

Ian Prowse
Seasick Steve
Geoff Boycott
David Weir
Elvis Costello
Wreckless Eric

Linda Thompson - incredibly charming, very funny and extremely attractive

Robert Plant - very interesting, intelligent and down to earth

John Williams (the classical guitarist) - just a lovely human being

and one for the told me to F OFF list...

Lemmy (alongside Phil Lynott) - The Ship pub, Wardour Street, 1985

Sort of spoils the myth, doesn't it?

I was 16, popped into The Ship pub before going to the Marquee. Spotted Lemmy and Phil Lynott at the bar. Being a cheeky sod, I went up to them and said "I've bought loads of your records and I'm skint. Do either of you want to buy me a pint?", to which Lemmy replied "Go on then. What do you want?" "A Guinness" I squeaked. Guinness arrives. Lemmy hands me the pint with the immortal line "There's yer pint. Now fuck off." Cue much laughter from him and Lynott. I was on cloud nine for about a week afterwards... "Lemmy told me to fuck off!" "Lemmy told me to fuck off!"

A real gentlemen, who chatted to me very happily about future musical plans for a good 10 minutes when I bumped into him a few years ago.

Never spoken to the bloke at all ever to be frank but ever since I saw him play with Straits in 1980 (Newcastle City Hall - very very loud) I've been an admirer. Seen him play solo many times etc.

Anyway, last month I was at Arrivals at Heathrow Terminal 5 waiting for my big sis to disembark from a Newcastle flight. Hardly a sinner about. Very quiet.

The few that had flown down that afternoon started to emerge. One bloke with close a cropped bonce and something of a bugle on him ambled past me. Mark Knopfler.

Now here's the thing - the urge to blurt out, to no-one in particular, 'Fucking Hell, that's Mark Knopfler!' was immense. And also to extend a friendly hand and say something like 'Hey Mark, how you doing? A great admirer, nice to meet you.' Or something. I did neither and just left him alone. Mainly because I'm 44 and should be beyond that kind of adolescent outburst - but really, and I think tellingly, I didn't want him to say 'Fuck Off'.

Don't get me wrong I don't think he would have anyway but if he had I would have been heavily disappointed.

Anyone else been in close contact with someone they admire but have said nowt for the same reasons?

.. and it's been my reaction every time I've done so, which I think is fair enough. Never regretted it. They can't disappoint then, can they?

At a picnic concert at Kew Gardens a few years ago, he was wandering around near us looking for somewhere to put down his rug. The temptation to say "someone's sitting there mate" was almost overwhelming. To my wife's relief, I managed to keep my mouth shut.

In October 2002 was heading to a pub before an Oasis gig when I saw a try-hard Liam Gallagher lookalike strutting along Collins Street, Melbourne. Did a double take and realised it WAS Liam Gallagher.

Last time he was in Australia he'd headbutted a fan so wondered whether I should approach him, but thought I'd regret it forever if I didn't. I was fully expecting to be told to "fook off".

Summoned up the courage to say "G'day Liam" and offered a handshake. Something quite unexpected happened. He stopped and gave me his full attention. Chatted briefly about that night's gig and asked if I could get a photo with him. HE actually stopped a passerby and asked them to take the photo.

Despite his bad reputation he couldn't have been any kinder. Was genuinely interested in me and asking how long I'd lived in Melbourne, etc (due to my Scottish accent). Things were going good until a part of my brain went "F**k! I am standing here talking to Liam Gallagher!!!" and I froze up. Probably for the best in retrospect before I started gibbering and made a dick of myself.

Liam took this as his cue to say he had to go and check in for the gig.

Told everyone how laid back and cool Liam was. Two weeks later he got his teeth knocked out in a bar fight in Italy...

After a transatlantic flight from Dublin to New York, I recall seeing a short fella, short beige hair and lots of between hair scalp showing, stumbling about in sunglasses, with a big long haired dude keeping a close eye. What a poser, thought I, why can't he be more like all these guys, thinking of the Rolling Stone 1000 best songs supplement that had been my reading material on the flight. "One" had been number one, I recall. Later I saw him strut past the assembled throng for customs, with a stunning looking woman of indeterminate years, high fiving the other passengers, and happily signing bits of paper, airline tickets, the lot.
Did I ask Mr Vox to sign my Rolling Stone magazine, across the double page spread about the song in question.
Nah. Too nervous..........