A Mendicutti Sighting

I saw him before he saw me. He was just walking along the road in front of International House. Without a chauffeur! No paparazzi, no crazy fans trailing him! My heart skipped a beat, and I, in headphones and trying my best to dissimulate my excitement, strolled right past him. That's Eduardo Mendicutti! I wrote my master's thesis over one of his books! To a young literary student who has just gotten his Master's degree, seeing an author is like seeing a rock star. I began to string sentences together in my head. "I have to address him formally. I'll lie and tell him I've loved everything he's written." I turned around and ogled at him for a moment, both of us still walking down the street. "I want to give him my thesis. Why don't I have a copy of my thesis with me at all times for emergencies??" I took out my headphones, practicing what I would say. When I finally worked up the nerve to turn around and address him, he had gone, had taken a right where I took a left and was now halfway down the street. I watched my rock star's bald house bob in and out of the crowd. I considered running after him and asking directions, tripping him. Anything to stall him. In the end, I put my headphones back in. It wasn't meant to be, not today. If I see him again, that's when I'll know that I have to talk to him. Give me one more chance, Mendicutti.