During dinner tonight (and possibly under some form of wasabi hypnosis), I recalled what happened when I met Dave Barry on Sunday. [Please see entry dated January 29 below.]
When he signed my book with that little wisecrack – other people ahead of me only got his signature and I know that because I was watching hawkishly – I said, “YES!”
Out loud.
Not just any yes, but the kind of “YES!” accompanied by that clenched fist, arm pumping, motion.
When you pair those together, you get one embarrassing moment.
Dave Barry must think I’m a sad little groupie with no life. Hey…wait a minute.
No condolences, please, but you can send a Thank You card to Jay for jogging this unfortunate memory.
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