I was walking with my feet ten feet off of King…
Enough of that. My apologies.
Monday during my free period, I walked over to the coffeeshop to see my dear husband and to get a free drink. (also dear, but in another way. as in price.)
Walking up King Street, I was in my own world, thinking of the clarity of the sky, or the warmth of the sun—how it still felt new and encouraging, or of the nearness of summer break.
Mostly, obviously, of nothing.
My gaze drifted to a passing stranger ahead of me. My! What a thick, thick beard this gentleman had grown! He looks familiar, or at least so friendly that it seems as if I already know him.
He looked familiar because he was famous.
He was Zach Galifianakis!
ZG: Hello there. (eyes twinkle, meaning oh yeah you know me. I’m freaking famous)
me: Oh! (holy crap that guy IS famous) He-ey! (sounding like I’m on Hee-Haw or something. well bless-your-heart you funny famous man you)
We continue on our separate journeys. Zach? To hang out with Bill Murray obviously. Me? To mooch a legal addictive stimulant off of my overworked and over-studious husband.
You doubt it was really him? I did, too. Then I found out that Mr. G’s sister lives here.