I met a bloke in a pub once, sitting looking miserable at the bar. He was, not me.
"What's up Mate?", I enquired. (At this point you are suspecting a made up story)
"I've just been fired", he replied morosely.
"Oh really, who did you work for?", I enquired sympathetically.
"I was the book-keeper for Rory Gallagher".
"Oh dear", I said. "Still, there's no accounting for Taste".