Marlene Deitrich

There's a show in London at the present time which celebrates the friendship of Noel Coward and Marlene Deitrich; good show I hear, especially the second half when the the artists playing them perform some of their famous numbers.
Sometimes I meet someone who thinks Marlene Deitrich is the best thing since sliced bread. They moon over her memory and some start singing like her (men I mean): "see what the boys in the back room will have, and tell 'em that I'll have the same."
So I am always pleased to inform these fans that I have been this close (thumb and forefinger a few centimetres apart) to her.
London. Strolling along just outside the Cafe De Paris. A crowd gathering and the police moving us along. I didn't have clue why. The crowd knew why though. They knew that M.D. was about to appear.
And she did. In a big limo.
Suddenly I was caught up in the rush and found myself pushed right up against a chain of policemen, arms linked, while along the corridor they had made she walked to the door of The Cafe.
I was there, arms thrust down my sides with the pressure of the crowd on me. And she passed within centimetres of me and smiled.
"Marlene!" called yearning males over my shoulder. "Marlene, I love you." called others.
But - she smiled at me.