I am SO last Friday Night

Last night I was walking down 53rd Street, past the side door of Letterman around that time before the guest comes-- when there are fans and paparazzi all around. I considered crossing the street to avoid it, but that would have been out of my way and I wasn't gonna let these people get me... AGAIN.

Because last Friday night, I was attacked by either paparazzi or a paparazzi wanna be. This paparazzi, if he was one, was a bad one because I didn't realize I was a celebrity. Neither did the others on the relatively packed 1/9 train who clamored and whispered and pointed to me as this really normal looking man beelined towards me up and down the train, jumped in my face and tried to take pictures of me at all angles. (Including at one point through the window of the train.)

But in front of Letterman, no one even recognized me. And as scary as last Friday night was, I was sort of disappointed. That means I'm over. Done. My fifteen minutes are up. So I'm thinking it's not me that's actually famous. No one decided they'd make good money with a picture of the girl from the abstinence film, "I Should Have Waited."

So who did this guy think I was?....... I'm thinkin'....


Any other ideas?