Brush with fame
Claire has a stuffed penguin from the zoo that she named Staalsie. Sure, Ben had some influence on that, but still, it stuck. She loves that damn penguin.
Now, I’m no Bluz who’s had tons of brushes with fame. In fact, you can read about it on his blog, which is conveniently listed in the “Blogs We Love” tab. Because we do love that blog.
My brushes with fame include: Bobby McFerrin (The dude who sang “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,”) multiple Steelers from waitressing, Marc Andre Fleury (OMG, HOT FLASH) again from waitressing, and Chris Kirkpatrick from N’Sync. Woo.
So today, after dinner, Claire and I went on a deodorant run. Matt was out and I’m not the kind of girl to sit around and suffer. Plus I needed mascara. I have priorities. While walking down the aisles of Target, Claire was singing a song.
Claire: “Mama, that’s my ice skating song!” really loudly.
Me: “It’s beautiful, sorry you missed skating today. You napped right through it.”
Claire: “Mama, I’m gonna be a great hockey player!”
Jordan Staal: “I love a kid who likes to skate.”
Me: Drool….fuzzy brain….WHAT?
I swear it was him. Swear it. He was pushing a cart and leaning over it, trying very hard to ‘fit in’ to no avail. This dude is huge. Well over 6′ and huge upper body. Plus he was wearing nice clothes. Comfy, but nice and expensive. Us folks in the Harmar/Indiana/Fox Chapel area don’t really dress to impress at Target. (OK, maybe Fox Chapel, since apparently Theresa Heinz-Kerry owns a ranch there.) Plus his teeth were oddly crooked like his and white. And he was hot. So if it’s not Staal, then damn if he isn’t a great look-alike.
After standing in the middle of the aisle all dumb struck and in awe, I rush into a quiet aisle and call Matt.
Me: “Matt. Two things. First, do you want granola bars or Cliff bars for your camping trip?”
Matt: “Eh, whatever.”
Me: “OK, fine. Second. I so totally just met Jordan Stall. I’m almost 99% positive of it.
Matt: “Shut up.”
Matt: “Tell me you got his autograph.”
Me: “I was too busy drooling.”
Matt: “You better go hunt him down and get one. Otherwise you can’t come home. Jordan Stall, lady! Staalsie!”
Me: “No way! What if it isn’t him! I’d be such an idiot. Plus I look gross.”
Matt: “He’s been hit on by worse.”
I get to the check out line and the cashier is super nice and I said to her, “I swear to God, Jordan Staal is here.”
Cashier: “OMG, really?!?”
Me: “Seriously, I swear it was him. I got all hot and bothered.”
Cashier: “I have to ask the girls if they saw him.”
Other Cashier: “Ssssh! I so totally checked him out a few minutes ago. He paid with cash, but I swear it was him.”
Me and Cashier #1: Sigh
I then immediately called Carly once Claire and I were settled in the car.
JORDAN STAAL! (<—For those of you who are completely confused, click the link.)
*Oh and Carly, I was right, he’s Canadian. From Thunder Bay, ON.