Wed 18 Jul 2007
When I was a waitress during grad school at a BBQ joint in Times Square a customer once told me I looked like someone famous. He said he had to think about it though, so I let him mull it over while I got their drinks. Upon my return he said, “I got it… Val Kilmer.” Really? Thanks.

I’m back from vacation, a little tan, very rested (we’ll see how long that lasts) and hopefully not quite as bloated as my celebrity doppleganger. I had an amazing time. Just absolutely perfect. I miss it like crazy already. I have plenty of stories, but I think I have to wait until I can see over this stack of papers on my desk to share. I’m now officially the last person in my family to get married, and as someone so sweetly pointed out to me at the wedding, “Hey Erin, your clock is ticking.” Really? Thanks.
Stories to come, I promise. Don’t leave me.
3 Responses to “Excuse Me While I Go Overdose on Dexatrim”
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July 19th, 2007 at 7:14 am
my ma said something very similar to me: “you know, you aren’t getting any younger.”
great.
and, fucking val kilmer? was the customer by any chance wearing those wrap around black shades that elderly people always wear?
July 19th, 2007 at 4:34 pm
That customer’s mustard slaw atop his pulled pork sandwich was made with my own “special” sauce. I called it, “Ice.”
July 19th, 2007 at 11:28 pm
I don’t think you should beat yourself up about being the last to get married. If it helps, in ways both innumerable and unfathomable, ours apparently didn’t really count.
As for Val, well, I think of you as more of a Real Genius-era Val than say, Spartan. But we all know that intelligence within the Virgil’s clientele was a scarce commodity, replaced inexplicably by BBQ sauce. As if nobody would notice that.
Battle me? That’s a sin.