I’ve been part of the media and have had my face in the paper and on the web just enough for people to know me on the street sometimes. I will probably always find this a little bit strange but it does happen—maybe once or twice a month.
It happened yesterday where I live—Covington, Kentucky. It was a beautiful day. We’re not going to get too many of those from this point on and I was outside enjoying the weather.
I was walking down Madison Avenue heading towards The Dollar Tree Store when an older guy coming the other way smiled at me. He was tall and thin, wore glasses and had a full head of dyed, black hair (I could tell).
“Hey,” he said. “You’re Larry Gross.”
“Guilty,” I replied.
“I read your column in CityBeat all the time,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand.
“You know what my favorite one is—one that you wrote?”
“That one about those people in Indiana.”
“I don’t think I know the one—”
“That one around Christmas time. The one with that Roy and Thelma.”
“Merry Christmas from Thelma and Roy,” I said. “Yeah, some people did like that one.”
“I thought it was great,” he replied.
“Well, thank you,” I said before shaking his hand again and hauling my ass inside The Dollar Tree Store.
That exchange with the older man with the glasses and dyed black hair is excuse enough for me to rerun that CityBeat column right here. You’re welcome.
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