(Before I go too far, please say you like my new Facebook Fan page, a request that will seem ironic in just a couple of sentences.)
People think I’m famous. My friends don’t, and they actually know me, but strangers do. You could say their opinion matters, since fame is ostensibly a measure of recognizability (is that a word?). But people tend to extrapolate from fame some greater significance, and that’s the part that makes me laugh.
So as funny stuff happens, I figure I’ll share. Plus, I like to overthink, and this is fertile ground, since this stuff is so opposite of my take on everything.
Anyway, I’m in DC for a few days. Close enough to drive, hookup on the nice hotel for the $80. Giddyup.
Went and sat outside at a cafe for breakfast. Waiter comes, and he figures he knows me. Now, this always makes me uncomfortable because I’m not the guy today, “I’m Bomani Jones of various national broadcast outlets.” For all I know, he might think I owe him money. So, I hope he’ll drop it.
“Where you from?”
I ask if he follows sports, and we get to the answer. “oh, cool.”
Maybe we’re done? Nope.
Buddy comes back. “Brett Favre, any chance he comes back?”
I chuckle. He doesn’t.
“I mean, if he needed a leg or arm to play one more year, I’d give it to him.” Again, he isn’t chuckling.
“I know this may seem twisted, but I thought about, if I had a kid…I wouldn’t wish for this, but if he got cancer or something, I’d put down for his one wish to meet Brett Favre.”
First, I’d like to point out that this made me wonder how many people manipulate the Make a Wish people like this. “My baby wants to meet Buffie the Body!”
Second, my dude was dead damn serious. Now, I’m positive he doesn’t tell this to chicks at the bar. He told me cuz he saw me on television. Presumably, that means he thinks I can relate? Maybe I’m like a stripper, the psychologist for the uninsured?
Either way, I put my headphones on. Asked for the check, and he gave me a fist bump and said I was good. Left a $7 tip and kept it moving.
Keep it real: for a free steak and eggs, he can tell me he would Gillooly someone to get Favre on Around the Horn, and I’d smile and admire his dedication.
Anyway, as these things happen, I’ll share the fun. Like the valet at my hotel who asked when I was on ATH next…then asked my name for the ticket. And misspelled it.
Tellin you: people think I’m famous, even though they know better.
