i met him.

yes, i met him.

who, you ask?

yesterday afternoon, i met a future presidential speechwriter.

he called me inarticulate. figures.

but spending time with him was lovely. he humored me and my terrible story telling.

his story telling on the other hand, was wonderful. to be expected from a future speechwriter, i imagine.

he embarrassed me by (well, he embarrassed me several times, but we won't get into all that) telling me i should send him some of my clips.

"i want to see what you're proud of," he said.

very funny, mr. future speechwriter. you're an amazing writer. i'm already intimidated by you. then you called me inarticulate. and then ask for some of my writing? ha. i may be unable to form intelligent sentences in your presence, but i know damn well that you do not really want to read my writing.

even if i did send it to you, and you found the time to read it, you'd laugh.

and i don't think i can handle that humiliation and rejection.

but i was flattered nonetheless.

it was lovely to meet you, mr. future speechwriter.

even if i was just another face in the sea of faces looking at you.

i hope you made it home safely.