While at work yesterday, I saw a woman in another stylists chair that piqued my interest. She looked familiar, very familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on where I knew her from. I got the feeling that she looked a bit different from how I remembered her, but she was definitely someone who's face I knew, and more importantly, it was someone I liked.
This ping-ponged around in my tiny little brain for a while, slowly driving me insane.
And then I happened to be up a the desk when she was paying, and when she opened her mouth and out came a distinct Irish accent, it came to me!
"Are you Dolores O'Riordan ?" I blurted (in embarrasingly squeaky little peep.) (She was the lead singer of "The Cranberries", which provided a significant portion of the soundtrack of my life in the early '90s.)
"Yes", she said with a smile, obviously used to having her identity demanded of her. I managed to tell her it was a pleasure to meet her, and that I has been a fan for a long time, and she very graciously thanked me and said that it was always a pleasure to meet a fan.
And, here is the miracle of miracles, I was able, against all odds, to shut up. I just kept telling myself, "stop talking NOW; anything you say at this point will be idiotic and possibly result in a restraining order, do. not. say. a. word. And I listened to myself and she went away without noticing the screaming in my head at all.