Picard and pizza

If Patrick Stewart kept a diary, today's entry might look like this:

"Got up in Ann Arbor after playing Antony in Antony and Cleopatra last night. Had breakfast, took a shower, shaved. Watched a little of this drivel the Yanks call television. Had lunch. Spoke to an audience about acting, how I got started, politics, &c. Passed some guy on the street who said 'Thank you very much, Mr. Stewart'. I said 'You're welcome' and walked on. That was nice."

And if he had, that some guy would have been me. Yes, I walked past Patrick Stewart on the streets of Ann Arbor today, recognized him beneath his baseball cap, and said hello. Behold, my brush with the famous.

This evening, I had a slice of NYPD's marinara pizza and was biking home afterward when I passed by a homeless woman whom I'd seen before. She asked what time it was. I stopped, unpocketed my cell phone, and answered, 10:30. As I rode off, it occurred to me that the last time I'd seen her was Sunday night when she'd asked for a dollar and I'd given it to her. And then it occurred to me that I'd had a slice of NYPD's marinara pizza that night as well. Clearly, this pizza is causing poverty, or at least aligning the universe so I run into this same woman everytime I have it.