Clean up on aisle 8

On Sunday morning, I headed over to the neighborhood Pavillions, an upscale groceria, to get some edibles for the Oscar Party later that afternoon. Still in my lonely phase, I was wearing a black workout ensemble which I had slept in but rolled all the cat hair off. A hat I figured would hide my make-up-less face and the cut above my lip from a sharp plastic bit on a water bottle. At least I was hydrated.

I raced to find the Boston Creme Pie I had seen earlier in the week to highlight my themed cuisine for the party. Each nominated Best Pic is represented:
Iwo Jima = edamame and gyoza
Little Miss Sunshine = Olives and Olive tapinade (for the main character's name)
The Queen = stilton and bangers
The Departed = the aforementioned Boston Creme Pie
Babel = humus and 7 layer dip

SCORE! they had the pie. I didn't have the time to create one myself. And that's when I saw him. John Lassiter. CEO of Disney Creative and Pixar. He's pushing a trolley along the cheese aisle. I smile and nod, as I usually do when I see him in the hallway at work. But out of context, I am nothing more than a very friendly yet lonely cat owner in the cheese aisle. And then I remember that he's going to the Oscars THAT AFTERNOON! Hey, I should have said something to him such as, "Good Luck!" "Don't trip on your way to the stage!" You know, something pithy.

I make my way around the store searching for him and there he is on the other side of the produce section talking to the VP on Feature Animation, Carolyn and her beau and daughter. By the time I make my way over, he's scooted over to the checkout. So I chat it up with Carolyn for a bit and we head our separate ways.

My phone rings. I answer. "Dara McGarry. I can hear you giggle all the way over in the wine section." It was John and his wife Audrey. John sits next to me at work. He knows my giggle. I head over to wines and spirits and find them shopping for the wine to bring to my house later. (6 bottles total were consumed, I think mostly by me and Audrey, judging from our headaches.) We recount the days events and the impossibility that we are all at Pavillions at the same time.

I make my way back to shopping, as there is still so much left to buy! At least 30 minutes go by and there is John Lassiter again, this time with a hand basket. He's vacantly roaming the aisles. This time, I stop and wish him luck. His glassy stare tells me I'm still the loney cat owner. I introduce myself and his gaze instantly turns warm as he shakes my hand and seemingly tries to memorize my face, I hope not to have me sacked later. After the awkward "we have nothing more to say" pause, we go our separate ways. But I keep seeing him in teh aisles. It's now 1:00. The pre-show starts at 3:00. I'm concerned. "Shouldn't you be getting your tux on about now?" He looks dejected. "Yeah, I really should be getting ready. My wife needed hair spray," he says picking up a bottle of water to read the ingredients. Clearly he was nervous. I give him one more good luck and decide to give the poor man his space. he obviously doesn't need another friendly, hairy cat lady giving him Oscar advice.

I was really hoping he'd win.