JETSETTER columnist Piers Morgan relates a story about a favourite Beverley Hills restaurant where legends Frank Sinatra, Gregory Peck and Anthony Quinn dined.
This reminded me of my one-time favourite Blackpool restaurant Giggis’, in Church Street, and a meal with an older friend.
Long story short, as that old pal would say, in Piers’ yarn Peck got soup on his tie and asked the maitre d’ (a character) to do something as Mrs Peck would be unhappy.
To everyone’s amusement except Gregory’s (to start with, anyway) the fellow returned with scissors and snipped off the tie halfway.
During our meal my pal volunteered his first marriage was broken up by Anthony Quinn.
“We were on holiday in Majorca,” he said, chomping on a sirloin, “the kids were young and my wife tired. Then I saw a yacht sail in and Anthony hop off. He came to the bar I was in.
“Quinn stood beside me and was served from his own bottle of Scotch.
‘Hate sailing,’ he told me, then asked if I wanted a whisky.
“My wife was ready to leave, with the children. ‘Not now,’ I told her, ‘I’m with Anthony Quinn!’ ‘Well,’ she told me, ‘it’s him or us.’ And off she went.”
The old chap shook his head and confessed: “Never was the same after that.”
Then he brightened, “but I enjoyed meeting Anthony – what a man!”
I also remember our meal because the next morning my dining companion phoned with an odd request.
He said: “Could you ask that friend of yours who owns the restaurant if he’s found my teeth? I took them out to eat the steak.”
In some embarrassment I called Giggis and explained about missing dentures.
“Tell him to drop by and have a look,” replied the genial Giggis, “we have lots of them left here!”
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