THE PERRY KING'S GAMBIT

That's it, count me out. No longer am I giving up my seat on public transport for a pensioner. Let them stand for the whole journey, I say.

Is it ill manners, a lack of courtesy or empathy, or my lamentable klown upbringing that has caused me to take this tack, you may wonder. No, my friend, it is television.

How many times do we need to see a documentary featuring a D-list celebrity in "old person" make-up experiencing life through "someone else's eyes"?

The correct answer, you'll find, is once. That is, indeed, more than enough.

Every time I get up to offer my seat to an OAP these days I'm always suspicious that they are, in fact, former glamour model Melinda Messenger. Or the Olympically healthy Lynford Christie. Or, please save us, any former Big Breakfast presenter.

The reason T4 presenters can't get a seat on public transport when disguised as old folk is not because we are a rude, disrespectful society. It's because your film crew is hogging all the other seats on the bus. And, between you and me, everybody on the planet hates you. Yes, you, Dermot O'Leary. I'm looking at you.

Fall over in your old man make-up, Dermot. Fall.