Shelley Wright takes a wry look at life

YESTERDAY I was enjoying a few scoops with a couple of pals in a Manchester bar when who should walk through the door but Vikram Desai.

Now for those of you who don't face the television and worship the Northern equivalent of Mecca four times a week, or five if you're sad enough to watch the Sunday omnibus too, Vikram is the latest face on Coronation Street.

Basically he's the lazy, work-shy son of an industrious Asian businessman who bought the corner shop off Fred Elliot... I say, Fred Elliot.

Vikram is supposed to be in charge but is always shutting up shop to go out - and as you can imagine, he's regularly in trouble for being closed when Jim MacDonald wants a pint of milk or Sally Webster pops in for some sweets.

It's the kind of blatant irresponsibility that has outraged Street residents and had viewers up in arms in recent weeks. I mean, clearing off to the casino in the middle of the afternoon?

You never caught Alf Roberts deserting his post for a game of cards.

Or cruising around Manchester bars on a Thursday night for that matter.

I spotted Vikram from twenty yards away with the kind of finely tuned celebrity radar that has previously picked out Mike's second wife Susan Baldwin bargain hunting in Chelsea Girl and the bald guy out of Right Said Fred eating a pizza at a Bury multiplex. And I nearly choked on my raspberry Seltzer trying to point out the discovery to my friends who seemed more interested in the fact our cheeseburgers had just arrived.

But I couldn't resist the temptation as he walked past and heckled: "Oi! Vikram! What about the shop? Emily Bishop needs some soya milk!"

It's a good job we ordered the big 8oz burgers is all I can say because I don't know where my friends would have put themselves otherwise.

Vikram and his two friends looked similarly unimpressed.

And call me Mystic Meg but I could tell by their droll expressions that they'd heard it all before.

In fact, I reckon they'd probably heard it ten times at least that night as they flitted between shops and bars, minding their own business and generally doing no harm to anyone - only to be shouted at by soap-crazed fans like me.

The poor bloke was probably only out to get a new jumper.

But why are we all so obsessed by celebrity?

I mean, ask anyone and I guarantee they'll instantly recall some two-bit tale about bumping into even the lowest second-rate star. I know because I have just asked everyone in this office and been inundated with stories - though they do seem to have a good class of anecdotes to tell I must say.

Apparently chief reporter Jason Heavey sold Mick Hucknall a sofa in Ikea and picture editor John Napier was once sitting on a bench minding his own business when the Queen wandered out of a nearby loo. Can you imagine that?

Jason's sister went out with Glenn Hoddle too.

Then there's the one about the Nolan Sisters pushing into a Blackpool buffet queue in front of Andrew Turner or Amanda Killelea's favourite about being sat next to Lenny Bennett on a plane.

Meanwhile my dad continues to dine out on his stories of working back stage at Bolton's Palace nightclub and playing various people's drums, while former Evening Telegraph reporter Simon Donohoe has actually been in the same room as Ken Dodd!

I find that particularly difficult to beat don't you?

It certainly puts Vikram in the shade.

I wish I'd never mentioned it in the first place now.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.