"You Got a lot of nerve showing your face around here, after what you pulled."

So this evening, I and the loveliest of round monsters shared a dining experience at a quaint little sushi bar in West Hollywood, my current stomping ground. The food was pretty good, but not really worth the monumental bill that followed it, not to say that I'm cheap, just...you know, unemployed.

As we were leaving, Sarah exited ahead of me, but in order to depart, we were forced to wade through a small pond of sharply dressed older gentlemen. As she forged ahead of me, one of the gentlemen blantantly perused the goods in which she is in possesion of. Though I clearly understand why he did this, it still miffed me a bit.

My interior monologue went something like this:

"Hey old guy. Stop staring my special lady friend. Go about your old ways, persisting in your old existence, oldie. And keep your old eyes to your old self. Sheesh!"

But as I walked past him and glared into those old eyes of his, I sheepishly realized just who had been ogling my special lady friend: Billy. Dee. Williams.

Yep, that's right. Mr. Colt 45. Mr. Lando "Former owner of the Millenium Falcon" Calrissian.
Billy Dee Fuckin' Williams.

Needless to say, I backed away quietly as my interior monologue screamed its apologies and relished in his performance as Harvey Dent.