Clearly, Fame Isn't Everything

 I had lunch at Taco Bell today* and glanced across the lobby as I waited for my order.  The man sitting against the window, chatting with his wife or daughter, seemed familiar to me.

It was Alan Rickman, the famous actor from ROBIN HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES, HARRY POTTER, LOVE, ACTUALLY, and DIE HARD.  One of my favorite actors, my heart leapt at seeing him in my little town.  But the leap was short-lived, as I was reminded that Rickman passed away in 2016 (thereby robbing us of another dozen or so marvelous performances . . . and him of life, obviously).

But it would explain why his hair was a little whiter and he'd put on a few pounds since the last time I saw him in anything.

I glanced over several times as I ate, thinking that, even if it was just a lookalike, if I were him, I would cosplay every year as Severus Snape, Hans Gruber, or the dude that swears by Grabthar's hammer that you shall be avenged.  I texted my cousin, to tell him that Rickman was only a few feet away, and his response was:

"Isn't he dead?"

Followed almost immediately by--

"Maybe you are too."**

I thought it would be wise to snap a picture (I swear, I accidentally typed "snape a picture" the first time), and raised my phone . . . but almost every time I looked over, he glanced back at me, like he could sense my gaze and was thinking, "Ugh, the only good thing about faking my death and entering witness protection was being free of the damned fanboys."

Still, I strained my ears to listen to their conversation, and the only thing I could glean was that the man spoke in an American accent, which pretty much ruled out celebrity (it's not as if Alan Rickman did such a convincing American that John McTiernan wrote a scene for him in which to use it on Bruce Willis or anything).  I had wanted it to be somebody famous, and somebody alive.  You understand.

Finally, I had to concede that it wasn't Rickman, just a guy who, from the angle I was sitting, looked exactly like him.  Still, I'd rather look like the bad guy in QUIGLEY DOWN UNDER than myself, so there's that.  He stood up to leave, so I texted my cousin, "I wanted to send you a photo as proof, but he's leaving."  But before I could send it, the man walked past me and said, "Enjoying your dinner, Mister Cowboy?" then made his way out the door.

*None of that, now.  Save your snark for your own blog.

**I'm lucky; it could easily have been, "I sure wish you were too."