My Name Is Earl at the Chelsea Hotel

What, is he waiting for me to acknowledge him? I wondered. To ask, “Hey, aren’t you that Earl guy?” Maybe even ask for his autograph or something?

I was coming into a hotel the other day, and who should I run into checking in at the front desk but that Earl guy from _My Name Is Earl._ I nodded to him, and then I stood there waiting for the elevator.

But I noticed that that Earl guy kept staring at me. What, is he waiting for me to acknowledge him? I wondered. To ask, “Hey, aren’t you that Earl guy?” Maybe even ask for his autograph or something?

Well, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. The elevator came, and with Earl still staring at me, I got on and went up. It wasn’t until I got to about the third floor that I realized, "Hey, I know why he was staring at me: It’s because I’m carrying this five-foot-tall painting that I just found in the trash." I’m sure he was thinking, Wow, there’s one of those crazy Chelsea artists I’ve been hearing so much about; the bohemian weirdness is starting already.

When I got to the eight floor, I told a bohemian girl about my recent star sighting, but she seemed more interested in the painting.

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