Strange star moment…

First some good news! My trial is adjourned until the beginning of January. And while I was ready to go and actually looking forward to doing the case, the adjournment gives me even more time to prepare and paves the way for me to do a little teaching for the Missouri Public Defender next week.

So I’m on my way out of a little holiday party last night (thank you adjourned trial) standing at a corner on Madison Avenue, when a young woman taps me gently on the shoulder, and says—“Oh my god—I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I just had to tell you--your lecture last week was just so totally amazing…”

Now I’m with my friend Laura Kipnis who looks at me completely perplexed. In truth, I’m perplexed too, and since this sort of thing has never really happened to me before, I’m convinced she’s made a huge mistake. “Gosh thanks” I stammer in something less than my best too-cool-for-school delivery. Obviously, I’m looking at her blankly, because she too seems to have a moment of doubt. “This is my boyfriend,” she says pointing to the thin handsome kid next to her, “he’s a cop, and we went to see your lecture and I just thought you raised the best points…”

He’s a cop…some dim memory of something having to do with cops is forming in my brain when she says “At the CUNY graduate center—right?” she’s starting to sound cautious when it hits me—she’s talking about the The Restless Sleep panel discussion I did a few weeks ago.

I kind of can’t believe it, but there she is, all smiles and sweetness, and she’s being so genuine, and it turns out she’s not mistaken after all, and all of a sudden I perk up and we go on to chat for about 5 minutes about cold cases and being a cop in Harlem (where the boyfriend who is a rookie is assigned), and, as Arlo Guthrie might say, all kinds of int-er-esting stuff about life and panel discussions and the CUNY graduate center and then, right there at the pinnacle of my very first micro star moment, I realize I’m being a complete dork, and with a big smile on my face I finally pull myself away from the narcissistic thrill of being recognized to go and have myself a ruben sandwich at the nearby Irish bar.


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