So, Jenny and I were minding each other’s business in a West London pub, when an attractive woman attempted to squeeze past. “Sorry, could you move your drink,” she said politely, “because my bum will knock it off the table.” We moved the drink, and sure enough, her bum didn’t knock it off the table. A man arrived, with a guitar. “Can I put my guitar here?” he asked, slotting into a conveniently size gap in between the seats. “Of course,” I said. “It’s almost as if the space was designed for your guitar,” I pointed out. “Yes,” he said. All very polite.

Jenny knew who the woman was. “It’s Penny Smith, off GMTV,” she whispered. I looked over. I was none the wiser, really, as my choice of breakfast entertainment extends to a bowl of Fruit and Fibre. She, the guitarist and two other men were earnestly discussing the merits of various pop songs. “No,” said a distinctly camp member of the party regarding one of the suggestions, “that’s far too slow.” We attempted to eavesdrop, but weren’t having much luck. In the end, Jenny leant over and asked them what they were doing.

It turns out that Penny is a contestant on a forthcoming BBC show called “Just The Two Of Us” – similarly to Strictly Come Dancing in format, but featuring celebs teamed up with bona fide singers – and they were looking for a song to do in the “pop” category. The guitarist introduced himself. “Hello,” he said, “I’m Curtis Stigers.” Jenny was impressed. “Well, hello Curtis,” she said. She then sung one of his songs at him, to prove her credentials as, uh, someone who knew one of Curtis Stigers’ songs. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Curtis Stigers seemed to enjoy it. He was an extremely pleasant chap.

I got out my iPod and started scrolling through, looking for ideas for them. Curtis Stigers asked if he could have a look. Curtis Stigers held my iPod, scrolling through the list of artistes. “Hey, Penny,” said Curtis Stigers, “How about we do a song by THE NOSEFLUTES!” They both laughed. They should, though, really. Perhaps something off the album Zib Zob And His Kib Kob.

On hearing that we were both journalists, the camp bloke – Curtis Stigers’ manager – made us promise not to reveal anything about our discussion. I wasn’t going to, but then I saw that it’s all up on the internet anyway. If they end up doing one of the songs we suggested, I’ll be sure to return to this topic, in the hope of getting some commission, or something.

[Oh, and if I texted you at about 1am saying "I've just spent the evening with Curtis Stigers", I'm sorry.]

EDIT: I’ve just discovered this in my browser history.