less reverential story, I hope he tells it here.

we know he is mainly a prick, that was fantastic , have an arrow

I lived in Bath from 1991 to 1992. One evening I was walking through the town centre and heard an Ulster accent echoing through the streets. I turned a corner and found myself looking at the man himself, in a phone booth, talking away. "That's a very good idea", he said down the phone. I was minding my own business, walking past, but there was a thunderous look on his face. He knew I'd recognised him and his look said "stay away". Well, that is pretty much what has happened between him and me since. In those days I would have claimed to quite like him. Nowadays I don't care one jot for him or his music.

... met him after a show. She asked if he would pose with her for a photo and he could not have been more obliging.

Have a quiver full of arrows.
I sat opposite him outside a west London pub once. I clocked him. He clocked me. I knew better than to push my luck so left it at that.
By the way, the sun has just risen here in NZ and it's a beautiful morning. On the stereo is Veedon Fleece. I can't think of a better way to start the day.

... but, oh dear, that interviewer's hat.