Wednesday, September 03, 2003

I CALLED A CAB. NOW I SHALL CALL MY BRIEF: Never mind Chris Martin behaving like, well, Liam Gallagher - further evidence of the distance travelled from Nice Blokes by the Coldplay crew is offered by the curious case of Will Champion, his neighbour and the taxi. Will ordered a cab. His neighbour saw it pull up, needed a ride, and so nipped out and took it. Jacqueline Hall, the neighbour, claims that she didn't realise until later that he'd actually ordered it, but even if she had done the "Cab for Champion?" "Yes, that's me" switcheroo - well, it wouldn't reflect well on her but its the sort of stroke we all pull from time to time (On its wedding night, No Rock did something similar). The proportionate response would be to pretend it never happened, or else joke about it. Maybe a strained "look, please don't do that again because if I can't get to work on time, uh, we might not be able to make a record..." the next time they meet. Instead, Will sends a legal letter - instructions were issued to his solicitor - accusing her of criminal deception (yeah, the fraudulent usage of taxis is something that, left unchecked, can really destroy a society) and warning that a repetition of this sort of thing would be reported to the police.

Clearly young Will has too much money, and a slightly over-inflated sense of his own importance.


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