Janeane Garofalo Ignores Me

She and her friend did their best to play the “my God, why can’t I go out and be normal without some slob coming over to bother me” game—a game in which I am sure she is a frequent participant.

I was in a bar in New York about six years ago with several friends who had all traveled with me from San Francisco. We were sending off a buddy of ours who had decided to join the Peace Corps and as a result were terribly drunk, as we had been barhopping for several hours all over town.

One of the gang spotted Janeane Garofalo in a corner, quietly chatting with a friend. My intention, though drunken and sad, was merely to say hello and tell her that I liked her work, etc., etc.

After several warnings from friends, I strolled across the bar and stood next to Janeane and her friend, waiting to be noticed. A long day passed. It was obvious that I was trying to say hello (and drunk), but she did not look over.
She knew that I was there, but she and her friend did their best to play the “my God, why can’t I go out and be normal without some slob coming over to bother me” game—a game in which I am sure she is a frequent participant.

After what seemed many seasons, she began to grow impatient. I did not interrupt their conversation but merely waited patiently to be noticed for my obvious charm. But even a drunk fool like myself can feel shame, and it had finally set in as she gave up and turned her head in my direction.

“Thank you” was all I said, and I turned around and returned to all my drunken, laughing friends.

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