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Yeah, exactly. That is just wrong. There shouldn’t be corn in chili. It’s unnatural. Don’t you think?
Me:
Well, I never really thought about it before. I mean, I like corn.
J.P.:
Well, I don’t. I never have. Not since—whatever. Never mind.
Me:
Not since what?
J.P.:
No, it’s nothing. Really. Never mind.
But, of course, now I HAD to know.
Me:
No, really. It’s okay. You can tell me. I won’t say a word to anyone. I swear.
J.P.:
Well, it’s just…you know how I told you the only celebrity I’d most like to meet is David Mamet?
Me:
Yeah…
J.P.:
Well, my parents have actually met him. They went to his house for a dinner party once about four years ago. And I was so excited when I found out, I was like—in that way you do, when you’re twelve, you know, and you think the world revolves around you—“Did you tell him about me, Dad? Did you tell him I’m his biggest fan?”
Me:
Yeah. And what did your dad say?
J.P.:
He said, “Yes, son, as a matter of fact, your name did come up.” Turns out Dad had told him about me, all right. He told him about the first time they ever fed me corn as a baby.
Me:
Yeah?
J.P.:
And how amazed they were the next morning when they found it in whole pieces in my diaper. The corn, I mean.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Actually, this happened the first—and only time—we fed corn to Rocky. So I know PRECISELY how gross it really is.
Me:
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Oops, I mean. Sorry. That must have been very embarrassing. I mean, for you. That they told your idol something like that about you. Even if you WERE just a baby at the time that it happened.
