You go to Starbucks for some cold beverage.
"My brother just loves that movie. He loves that movie so much he named his son after one of the characters and spelled it exactly the same."
You just got done doing a couple miles in intense heat and humidity so it takes a minute. "What?"
"Boondock Saints," she says pointing at your hat. "He loved it."
"Oh, I get it. Okay. Yeah, great film. Have you seen it?"
"No," she says, "But he loved it and named named his son, Konar, spelled just like the movie."
You finish off your Gatorade. "Excuse me?" you say, trying to sound as if you didn't really hear. "He spelled it how?"
"K-o-n-a-r. You know. One of the brothers?"
"And he watched the movie? Did he see the credits go by?"
"Yeah," she said, "a couple times."
There is point in your life when you got to make a choice. The kid is already named, birth certificate already issued. You can make a deal of this, looking pompous, or just ... smile.
"That is really great. I'm sure they love that, the actors I mean. Can I have a ..."