…unless, apparently, you are a former drug addict who says the F word in every other breath. Cause that’s just how I roll.
Yup, you got it. Tony Bourdain. Bad boy rock star of the food world.
I could care less about any “celebrity” found on the covers of grocery store tabloids. But when I found out Anthony Bourdain was coming to town last year, I politely asked my mother if we could go. (I BEGGED!) We went and he rocked.
Many months later, I received a photo via text message from one of my co-workers who was in Vegas for a UFC fight. HOLY CRAP. It was Tony Bourdain. THE Tony Bourdain. The picture was extremely dark, yet I stood there stunned. How in the WORLD did MY co-worker end up standing in front of Tony Bourdain?!
I am sure I texted some kind of garbled message back:
“OMG,that is,Tony Bourdain! How,in,the world dit youmeet Tony Bourdain!??”
(I suck at text messaging. Notice the commas replacing spaces. And the running-together words. Yup, I am a texting GENIUS. *taking a bow*)
I think there was a little texting banter after that, just before the moment it actually hit me. Tony Bourdain was holding a sign THAT-HAD-MY-NAME-ON-IT. IT HAD MY NAME ON IT! (Yes, I’m a little slow.) Moreover, my co-worker sent another picture that included Ottavia. Ladies and gentlemen, Ottavia KICKS ASS.
Shortly afterwards came the pièce de résistance:
My co-worker wrote, “Hi Katherine,” Tony signed it and then (probably groaning) posed with the sign. The sign is now in my cubie. Yup. I got me some pretty AMAZZZZING co-workers.
Thanks Tony, for putting up with all that monkey business. And thank YOU, anonymous co-worker!