I walk past a woman who could have been Catherine O’Hara’s second cousin. She gives me a look like she is, in fact, Catherine O’Hara herself, and she seems inclined to talk about it.
Me: Oh, hi, good morning.
Catherine (smirking): Do you know who I am?
Me (buying time, forgetting her name): Are you kidding? You’re a legend. I’m actually – I know Marty Short pretty well.¹
Catherine: Really? He was just in town last week.²
Me: I know. I couldn’t make his show but we managed to get together earlier that day, long enough to share a pot of tea anyway. He and my parents grew up together. They still live back east.³
Catherine: Really? What’s your name?
Me: Oh, sorry. I’m Ian Grimbly.
Catherine: Grimbly?
Me: Yeah, he got the name for Ed from Dad, but I swear he’s nothing like that.
Catherine: I had no idea. The name sounds so —
Me: Made up? Yeah, I know.
Catherine: What a cute dog.
Me: Thanks. This is Toast. He’s the best.
Catherine: Well, have a good day.
Me: I can’t stop this. I can’t stop this feeeeeeling.
¹ While I do not actually know him, I just finished his memoir and so I feel comfortable providing any details that she might ask me about him. I heard from a successful celebrity stalker that telling them either you’ve met before, or that you know one of their friends, will put them at ease and make them confident you won’t kill them.
² He and Steve Martin had just performed their An Evening You Will Forget for the Rest of Your Life together in Vancouver.
³ This is not technically a lie, although she would likely presume I meant Toronto, which people up here call east.