Brush with fame

I was on the bart train yesterday, visiting a friend. It was scorching outside, and hotter inside the train. It must have been 100 degrees, and the only way I was surviving was by lathering water from my canteen all over myself. I don't know how the other people were still conscious.

Anyway, I moved to stand in front of the doors, so at least I'd get a breeze when the doors opened. There was this dude standing by the doors, and after a few moments of standing there, as the only other person to use this strategy to combat the heat, he started a friendly conversation with me. Of course about the weather. That is history's epic conversation starter, and I think it will continue beyond humanity. Cockroaches will start conversations about the weather. But in this scene, how could we think of anything else but the way we were cooking in the bart oven.

Then he said, "At least it's not the bad kind of heat... the humid kind..."
I looked at him. So he was probably from the East coast. For some reason that made me instantly realize that he looked like another East coast boy I know of, a famous singer in a band I really adore. Maybe I thought of that because he also got on in Oakland, and I know that this band happens to live in Oakland now.

So, after a few more questions about where he was from, I laughed and told him who he reminded me of, and asked him if he was him. He laughed and said no. I laughed at myself. Then he joked, saying that maybe he wouldn't tell me, even if he was him.

"You'd probably tell me, though, right?" I said.

"Yeah, probably." He replied.

I was about to change the subject when I noticed his shirt, with the somewhat obscure record label emblazoned across his chest. That little rascal. It was him, after all.

"You jerk," I said. "It is you! Nice to meet you, ----!" I finished, saying his name.

He looked a little embarrassed, but then relaxed. We talked music, and decided to hang out in the future.
Hilarious.