I've never wanted fame, or at least, that's what I thought.
My husband and I went out on a rare date to a nice restaurant called Sprigs—eat there, it's fabulous. I wore a nice dress and topped my head with my "spider" hat—a tentacle-y thing that sits in my hair like a grip of wild dreadlocks.
A couple of women got up to leave and as they made their way toward the door, one woman started to timidly approach our table. She's going to comment on my hat, I thought. And she did, but the interaction that followed the comment left me laughing. Here's how it went:
"I like your hat!"
"Thank you. I make hats for a living." (A phrase I'm constantly saying.)
"Are you Denise?"
"Yes, do I know you?"
"Denise the hat maker?!"
"I saw your work at Paradise City." Then, leaning toward her friend, "I told you it was her!"
She seemed thrilled to have met me in the real world, and I had, for a moment, a very petite and humorous moment of fame. How fun. How funny.
Thanks, whoever you were!