Have you ever met someone you admired from afar for years? Maybe a favorite musician or movie star?

I’ve always wondered how I’d react. I imagined I’d be dignified somehow, saying something clever and memorable, something the person might repeat on their talk-show circuit.

That fantasy went to hell in a handbasket the other night when I had the pleasure of meeting the author who can make me laugh no matter what: David Sedaris.

He came to a small, cool bookstore in town to launch his new book, The Land and Its People, which I’m certain will bring me great joy, until I remember this encounter.

There I was, sitting maybe four feet away from the man who had made me laugh with his antics for decades. The man who had me laughing uncontrollably while performing my civic duty: jury duty. The man who isn’t afraid to write about things that are undeniably funny yet well outside the confines of political correctness.

What happened?

I started sweating profusely.

Was it panic? Was my body reacting like one of those teenage girls fainting at the sight of the Beatles or Elvis? Or was it a heart attack?

Naturally, a heart attack was my leading diagnosis. But when a mint and a sip of water cured it, I revised my diagnosis.

I listened and laughed my way through the event.

Then, as I filed into line to get my book signed, I noticed my copy looked exactly how I felt.

The book has been in my possession for no more than 2 hours, and it somehow had a coffee stain on page three and a sticky cover with a slight tear.

If anxiety were a book, it would be this one.

I was calm as a cucumber in line, watching the interactions of all the patrons before me, no doubt having some witty, meaningful exchange with David.

This is when my inner coach was giving me the hype talk I needed. “You got this.” “David is going to love you.” “This is your moment.”

I approached the table. David said my name.

For a nanosecond, I thought he knew me!

Until I saw the post-it with LISA written with a black sharpie.

What came out of my mouth?

I have no idea.

Some sort of verbal recipe about standard poodles, the Beatles & Elvis.

Then, just as I was about to walk away, I asked what I thought was a decent question: “How did you choose the photograph on the cover?”

David looked up, we met eyes, and he thoroughly explained how it came to be with his trademark sarcastic wit.

In the end, you could say I got my dignified moment with the author I love and admire.

Unfortunately, it came after introducing myself as a malfunctioning garden hose, spewing random nonsense about standard poodles, the Beatles, and Elvis all over the room.

Enjoy the Ride!