"That Norman Something ..."

Do keep up ... funny  ^,,^

There are two facts established in my life: 1) I am a certifiable Crazy Cat Lady; and 2) Norman Reedus was, at a convention, nice to my kid.  He didn't have to be, he chose to be.  He took time to spend with her, knowing she was ill. Not hours or anything, but enough time to make a difference to her...and me. He stands as the wallpaper on my phone not because of a cute mole or gorgeous eyes, but because he is a constant reminder that there is good in the world when you don't expect it and people can be down right amazing.

He. Was. Nice to. My Kid. Need I say more?

With those two facts in mind, is it any wonder the photo above is my phone wallpaper?

With that prelude said...

In prep for the NaNoWriMo, a National Writing Program, I was waiting in line to get a script filled with my husband. I was reading a book on surviving an apocalyptic event, as one does while waiting in line.

My husband, having already found the wallpaper had been changed out the night before, not only accepted my explanation that "this man reminds me there is good in the world" but my husband was making faces, trying to mimic both Mr. Reedus and the cat in the photo.  My husband can be silly waiting in line.

We get to the register and are being checked out by this new guy who gets no prompt from me. I swear, he got no prompt from me ...

He sees my book.

"Oh cool," he says, "zombies."

"No," I tell him.  "My story is about creating a plague. No zombies involved."

"Oh, that's too bad," he says. "Have you seen that show Walking Dead?"

"Yeah," I said. "Saw it for the first time last week.  Pretty good."

Hubby's eyes close.  "Don't," he whispers.

Guy goes on (this is his exact dialogue)"Oh, you should watch it. They have this character on there. Man, he is bad ass. His name is Daryl. Have you heard of him?"

With pursed lips and half grin, I nod.  "Yeah.  Maybe. I might remember him."

I'm trying not to laugh. Hubby is shaking his head with a smirk.  His "Don't" get's louder.

Guy is still talking.  "He's played by the guy ... Norman something,  He's done some other things, too."

I hold up my phone to show my wallpaper.  Hubby kicks me in the foot under the counter.

"You mean him?" I ask.

"Oh," he moans. "Yeah, That's him. You've heard of him."

"Maybe some," I smile.

"Did you ever hear of this other movie he did? It's called 'Boondock Saints'.  Bad ass, film man. You have to see. You have to." (he liked the term bad ass).

"I'll look into that," I say. "Bookdock Saints?"

And this guy, on his first day of work behind the counter at the pharmacy where I am trying to pick up a scripts, pulls his shirt almost all the way off to show where he **used** to have that "poem thing they said in the film" tattooed, as one does on the first day of a new job.

"I was too drunk when I got it, though," he said. "Had to have it covered ... " ...by this really weird flower/ink spot thingie about a foot and a half wide.

John, the head guy here, he is actually a friend of mine watching the whole exchange.  He was ready to kill this kid before we got to the counter. By the time the kids shirt came off?  His first day looked to be last.

He was still talking about Daryl as we got what we came for and backed away, nodding politely as he recommended episodes to show Daryl off.

I have never seen such a huge Daryl fan and I have met some real Daryl fans.

We thanked him and headed out.

Let me summarize: I, at no time, brought up any of these subjects. I was reading a book on survival tactics for my new novella and had no way of knowing the new clerk was going to strip for the sake of Saints.

Sure was funny, though,