With Apologies to Rockwell...
I'm here to announce that someone's been watching me. Really - it's true. Absurdly true.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen (cue dramatic music): I have a stalker.
For those of you uninitiated in the absurdity that is my life, allow me to bring you up to speed on this particular chapter of absurdity. You see, I show up on television from time to time. At times I can be found hosting specials. Other times you’ll see me appearing in commercials, either in an acting role or in a spokesperson role. And over these past many years every once in a while I've turned up as a guest on a talk/interview show. This mélange of appearances seems to have bestowed upon me a kind of grade-Z awareness level. Some strangers recognize me… and they recognize me from television… but most cannot recall exactly where on television they’ve seen me. Can you tell that I’m just bursting with pride?
Anyway…
In the eyes of one gentleman in particular, I seem to have attained a grade-A celebrity status. This gentlemen is my stalker. So how did I determine that he was a stalker? Well, he first entered my world several years ago, when he approached me in a Barnes & Noble bookstore. I had just entered the store in the middle of a snowstorm. I was wearing a bulky coat, a hood and sunglasses, and even my own mother wouldn’t have recognized me until I removed that hood and sunglasses. But even before the sunglasses came off, a gentleman… a gentleman whose body was formed in a distinct pear shape… approached me and told me what a fan of mine he was. Even with my non-intentional disguise, he recognized me! He was positively ecstatic as he spoke with me, citing my specific television appearances and proclaiming to me that I was the “funniest thing on TV,” and that I “should be on TV more often.” Odd, I thought to myself. I had to ask him: how did he recognize me with the hood and glasses on? He told me that he wouldn’t easily forget the funniest guy on television! Still thinking that the situation was odd, I otherwise figured that this was harmless, and went on my way.
Did I say harmless? What I should have been thinking was: this guy is a creepy stalker.
You see, over the next several years, he seemed to turn up with puzzling regularity in places at which I happened to be. The supermarket? Check. What about Target? Check. You name it – he was there. And every time that I saw him, he insisted on conversing with me. Needless to say, this whole thing in short order began to creep me out.
Thankfully I got good at getting away from him. You see, his pronounced pear-shape and unusual weight distribution did not allow him to walk with any kind of briskness. Actaully, he kind of wobbled (yes, like a "weeble"). So after a while, the minute that I would spot the guy (or the minute HE spotted ME) I would act as if I didn’t hear him calling me and instead I would kick my footsteps into second gear; before long, I could be at the opposite end of a Target aisle in 5 seconds flat. The poor pear-shaped man, however, could barely take a step or two into an aisle before I was into a different one.
This whole incident seemed to have come to an end a couple of years ago. After a supermarket sighting (during which I dodged him quite successfully), he vanished. No more supermarket run-ins. No more meetings at Target. No more pear-shaped man. He was out of my life. Or so I thought.
Fast-forward to this week. As I was leaving a supermarket and headed to my car, who do I spot in the parking lot… getting out of the car parked right next to my car? Yes, it was the pear-shaped man. Noooooooooooooooooooo! He was back from the dead… or the witness protection program… or prison… or from wherever he had disappeared to. Quickly… almost instinctively… I jumped into my car to make my getaway. As I was driving away, I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was trying to get my attention; I could see his hand and arm waving at me, and he appeared to be saying something as he was waving. Needless to say, I didn’t stop the car to find out.
Somehow, someway, absurdity seems to always find me. Even when it comes in pear-shaped form.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen (cue dramatic music): I have a stalker.
For those of you uninitiated in the absurdity that is my life, allow me to bring you up to speed on this particular chapter of absurdity. You see, I show up on television from time to time. At times I can be found hosting specials. Other times you’ll see me appearing in commercials, either in an acting role or in a spokesperson role. And over these past many years every once in a while I've turned up as a guest on a talk/interview show. This mélange of appearances seems to have bestowed upon me a kind of grade-Z awareness level. Some strangers recognize me… and they recognize me from television… but most cannot recall exactly where on television they’ve seen me. Can you tell that I’m just bursting with pride?
Anyway…
In the eyes of one gentleman in particular, I seem to have attained a grade-A celebrity status. This gentlemen is my stalker. So how did I determine that he was a stalker? Well, he first entered my world several years ago, when he approached me in a Barnes & Noble bookstore. I had just entered the store in the middle of a snowstorm. I was wearing a bulky coat, a hood and sunglasses, and even my own mother wouldn’t have recognized me until I removed that hood and sunglasses. But even before the sunglasses came off, a gentleman… a gentleman whose body was formed in a distinct pear shape… approached me and told me what a fan of mine he was. Even with my non-intentional disguise, he recognized me! He was positively ecstatic as he spoke with me, citing my specific television appearances and proclaiming to me that I was the “funniest thing on TV,” and that I “should be on TV more often.” Odd, I thought to myself. I had to ask him: how did he recognize me with the hood and glasses on? He told me that he wouldn’t easily forget the funniest guy on television! Still thinking that the situation was odd, I otherwise figured that this was harmless, and went on my way.
Did I say harmless? What I should have been thinking was: this guy is a creepy stalker.
You see, over the next several years, he seemed to turn up with puzzling regularity in places at which I happened to be. The supermarket? Check. What about Target? Check. You name it – he was there. And every time that I saw him, he insisted on conversing with me. Needless to say, this whole thing in short order began to creep me out.
Thankfully I got good at getting away from him. You see, his pronounced pear-shape and unusual weight distribution did not allow him to walk with any kind of briskness. Actaully, he kind of wobbled (yes, like a "weeble"). So after a while, the minute that I would spot the guy (or the minute HE spotted ME) I would act as if I didn’t hear him calling me and instead I would kick my footsteps into second gear; before long, I could be at the opposite end of a Target aisle in 5 seconds flat. The poor pear-shaped man, however, could barely take a step or two into an aisle before I was into a different one.
This whole incident seemed to have come to an end a couple of years ago. After a supermarket sighting (during which I dodged him quite successfully), he vanished. No more supermarket run-ins. No more meetings at Target. No more pear-shaped man. He was out of my life. Or so I thought.
Fast-forward to this week. As I was leaving a supermarket and headed to my car, who do I spot in the parking lot… getting out of the car parked right next to my car? Yes, it was the pear-shaped man. Noooooooooooooooooooo! He was back from the dead… or the witness protection program… or prison… or from wherever he had disappeared to. Quickly… almost instinctively… I jumped into my car to make my getaway. As I was driving away, I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was trying to get my attention; I could see his hand and arm waving at me, and he appeared to be saying something as he was waving. Needless to say, I didn’t stop the car to find out.
Somehow, someway, absurdity seems to always find me. Even when it comes in pear-shaped form.
posted by TV Boy at 7:55 PM
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