Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of the world-famous detective Sherlock Holmes, was not above telling tales about himself in which he was the laughing-stock.
In one situation, he was waiting at a taxi stand outside the railway station in Paris.
When a taxi pulled up, he placed his suitcase in the car and took a seat next to it.
“Where can I take you, Mr. Doyle?” asked the taxi driver.
Doyle was flabbergasted. He asked the driver whether he knew him by sight.
“No, sir, I have never seen you before.”
The puzzled Doyle asked him how he knew he was Conan Doyle.
“This morning’s paper had a story about you being on vacation in Marseilles. This is the taxi-stand where people who return from Marseilles always come to. Your skin color tells me you have been on vacation. The ink-spot on your right index finger suggests to me that you’re a writer. Your clothing is very English, and not French. And so, I deduced that you are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”
Doyle remarked, “This is truly amazing. You are a real-life counterpart to my fictional creation, Sherlock Holmes.”
“There is one other thing,” the driver said.
“What is that?”
“Your name is on the front of your suitcase.”