My dream last night:
Sitting in a parked car with a friend who is dropping me off back home, a vintage slightly beat up Porsche 914 runs into us. A handsome gentleman gets out as do we to inspect the damage. He seems really sorry and is deeply apologetic while taking full fault for being distracted.
After a few minutes of my friend and he talking over the next steps, we have this exchange:
Me: Does anyone ever tell you you look like Andrew McCarthy?
Him: Man, ALL THE TIME! (Waits a few beats)…. Especially when I travel, or when I’m at the bank. When I have to show my ID anywhere really…
Me: Is that because you’re Andrew McCarthy?
Him; That’s because I’m Andrew McCarthy (takes out ID and places it on hood of car along with insurance information so they can work out the crash).
We then proceed to have a really interesting conversation about the various roles I’ve enjoyed him in, the one’s he enjoyed working on, Minnesota versus California drivers, what it’s like being formerly famous, etc. A really good down to earth guy…
In my dreams, at least.