But on Monday afternoon there was one of those rare moments of intersecting celebrity that I felt important to document here on the pages of UCTMW for our expansive, devoted and world-wide audience.Our little village has a tiny organic grocery store - the kind that offers home made pesto, gluten free pasta, frozen free range chicken thighs, ground bison, locally sourced greens, and "free trade" coffee beans from obscure towns in Central America. Plus the long haired dude in charge will make you a smoothie on demand.
Slave stepped into our little grocery to pick up some tomatoes and coffee Monday afternoon, noting that there were a small group of other customers in this tiny, three aisle market. Two women in their 40's and three cute little kids, all with with really expensive haircuts.
There was one lady with reddish brown hair swooping to her shoulders and oversized, black framed glasses. Our eyes met briefly, and I had one of those "oops" moments.Was this another one of those embarrassing incidents where one of our vast public recognized me as an internationally renowned sex blogger? I quickly averted my eyes, hoping that she would not recognize me, let alone make some sort of provocative, overly personal comment that would "out me" and make others in the store take notice. Like....
"Aren't you Mick Collins? Is this a cage day, Mick?"
Fortunately, she was discrete, just giving me a vague nod of semi-recognition as she felt up a hand picked, chemical and additive free avocado that retailed at $5/piece. I suppose it could have been a little odd if she questioned me in front of her cute little kids about how Mistress's hunt for a part-time Dom was going.
Slave fumbled with the plastic bin that dispensed the locally roasted chocolate and pinon infused coffee beans (only $15/lb.), letting them dribble into the unmarked brown bag. I figured 4 oz. could last until the end of the week and kept my head down.
Of course, I recognized her too.
She was dressed down, sporting a "plain folks" modified Erin Brokovitch look, presumably to avoid recognition by the riff-raff. She has a second (or maybe 5th?) home across the pasture from our house that we've known about since she married that C&W crooner, Lyle Lovett, about 15 years ago. Now she's married to some camera man named Danny, with whom she's had those 3 cute kids. We've seen her about town from time to time, at the bookstore, on the slopes, or dancing side by side with her on a New Years Eve as the band played "Drift Away."What's nice about being an internationally renowned media celebrity, is the bond that exists betwixt all of us other inhabitants of the celebrity bubble. So when we run into one another at a tiny little organic food market, we tend to give each other a little nod of recognition in order to minimize the threat that the little folks will take notice of the vertitable gods or goddesses among them.
But I'm not so sure Julia could have contained herself so discretely if Molly had been shopping with me.
