When you’re hanging around West Hollywood for a few days, as I did when I met Will Ferrell, you sort of expect to see stars everywhere: at The Coffee Bean, walking out of Equinox, or getting out of their car for dinner at the Tower Bar on Sunset (I saw David Spade there one night). Whenever you see these people, though, they are generally doing their best to be real people, walking with their hats slung low, avoiding attention. So it was a little disconcerting when I met Ferrell. He was wearing a scarlet track jacket, shoes that must have been made up of six colours, and this intense trucker moustache. He would have stuck out in Texas or the 8th grade. But he definitely stuck out in Los Angeles.Ferrell obviously didn’t mind sticking out, but very little about him seemed celebrity-ish. The first I noticed (besides the gear) was how good his table manners were. He held a fork and knife like a character in Downton Abbey and waited to finish chewing before uttering a word. He also laughed a lot, which even though it was I interviewing him, made me feel comfortable joking around with someone who presumably has a high bar for laughter.