I had a little brush with fame in New Orleans. A literal brush with fame.
We were waiting for a table at Napoleon House (aside: their bruschetta is to die for). I looked up and said to myself, “Hey, self, isn’t that Zoe from Firefly?”) I was trying not to stare, but I was also trying to figure it out.
Which was when I looked up.
And I saw him.
My thought process went something like this”
“Hey, is that…”
“It totally is.”
“That is Lawrence Fishburne.”
“He’s kindof short.”
“But he has a certain gravitas about him.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could say something witty and clever to him?”
It was somewhere around here that I realized that he had crossed the entire length of the restaurant and was now attempting to squeeze by me. I hadn’t moved, because I was completely and utterly star struck.
Yeah, I’m cool like that.
He said, “Excuse me,” Kristian gave me a gently nudge and I got out of the way.
And that was my brief brush with fame. Scintillating, huh?
Awesome.