I saw the sign out the front, I say. I was intrigued. So who are you?
I’m The Next Big Thing, he says.
Can I get your autograph then?
That’ll be five dollars thank you.
Five bucks?!
John Travolta charges 200 for his.
But he’s someone.
Did you read the sign?
Yes.
Well, I’m The Next Big Thing. You’re getting it cheap. When I hit the big time ….
Okay, I say, I see your point, handing over my five bucks.
The phone rings.
Me: [chirpy] Oh Hi Lynne. Good to hear from you.
L: Oooops. Sorry, John. Didn’t mean to phone you. I pressed the wrong button.
Me: [shoulders slump] Don’t feel bad, Lynne. Most people who phone me don’t mean to.
L: Oh.
Me: It’s alright. I’ll have a little weep in the broom closet and get over it. Until the next time, that is. But just don’t ask me ….
L: [sounding worried]. What?
Me: RUOK?
L: Well are you?
I hang up.
John Malone 