Public Privacy

…or is that Private Publicity?

The Girl Child took me out to dinner last night.  She even let me buy, the little twit darling, but I got to choose the venue.  In this corner of the Wilds of Ohio, there’s a bleeding heart liberal hippie artistic town called Yellow Springs.  Many cool little eateries can be found there and I picked a cozy place that specialized in the cuisine of Peru.  It even adds to the exotic, extralocal flare by having a uniquely authentic Peruvian name – – Williams*.

The place was small-ish.  There were three other tables filled with folks… a saccharine cute couple at the front window table, a pair of doddering, ancient slightly older couples, and a mom with her two excessively energetic sons.  We were seated and just started diving into the menu when the front door opened and a cold draft (no, not beer…a breeze of air) made me look up.  Saw a guy hanging up his coat and turn – – holy crap… it’s Dave Chappelle!

the davester

I just caught a glimpse of him, but was pretty damn sure it WAS him.  I knew that he kept his home somewhere in Yellow Springs.  Still, I wasn’t totally convinced.  He proceeded to sit at the table with the mom and 2 kids, with his back towards our table.  Couldn’t help peeking over now and again to try and confirm it really was him, though I heard his voice a few times and it was spot on to the guy on the Comedy Central show.  At one point he got up and went to the loo and both Daughter Person and I got a good look at him… Yep, very definitely Dave.

So, dear reader(s?)…what would you do? 

Here is a public figure, who has earned millions of dollars because we (yeah, me!)…the faceless masses…have made that possible by buying his bit part movies, overpriced show CDs, and watching him on his caustic cable TV show.  I should go ask for his autograph!

Or…

Here is a private citizen, out to enjoy a quiet dinner with his family, wanting only to have a brief respite from the demands of his overly public job.  I should leave him be.

I chose the latter.  Okay, okay… the latter coupled with eleven too many glances over at his table to see him… and his kids’ frolicking… and just what kind of woman would marry a guy like him…

I did notice he did not make eye contact with anyone else.  Avoided eye contact is a better way of saying it.  My glancing around the room is not creepy atypical.  I like people watching.

I did notice that they seemed just a normal family, with mom chiding the kids when they got a bit too frantic and with dad playfully winding them up again with a well time, placed tickle.

I did notice that Dave has no ass whatsoever… okay, I’m straight and don’t make a habit of looking at men’s asses, still couldn’t help but notice…. NOTHIN’ in the trunk.

After they’d left, I asked the chef, who was checking on his customers, if Dave frequented the place.  “No, I think this is his first visit – – even though his family comes here all the time.”

So, I had my brief brush with one of the Rich and Famous and found him to be Normal and Typical. 

…and I hope he’s grateful I passed on an autograph opportunity… 

<cheesy grin>

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*Yes, I’m serious… here’s the website for Williams

 

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Tags: celebrity sightings, Daughter Person, dave chappelle bitch, life, normal people, Peruvian cuisine