Andalasian Royalty

So this cute guy comes into my restaurant tonight.

He was there with his pretty, brunette wife and two children. The son was maybe 6 or 7, with longish hair and the daughter was about 3 and wearing an Native American headdress fashioned out of a paper strip with several multicolored feathers attached to it. She wore it the entire time they were there.

As I first walked by his table, a series of thoughts occurred:

1) wow, dude is totally rocking that orange plaid shirt.

2) why does he look familiar?

3) do I know him?

4) maybe he's a country singer?

5) whatever.

So twenty minutes go by and I'm standing back by the line, about to run some food when Vinny, our sous chef, goes "Is that James Marsden at table 33?"

Surely not.

I walk by nonchalantly.

It really looks like him.

I walk by a little more chalantly.

It could totally be him!

I pretend to go up to the hostess stand but 

pretend that I forgot something in the general direction of his table and try to stare at his face without his wife noticing.

Ridiculously blue eyes.

He looks just like him. 

He cannot NOT be him.

My heart starts beating really fast. 

James Marsden is Cyclops! AND he was in a musical! Well, two really! He hooked up with (fake) Lois Lane AND "he" was "engaged" to the time traveler's wife! AND he knows Zac Efron, who I feel like I sort of know because-- well... he keeps showing up! And he can SING!!!

Which is precisely why I'm glad I didn't wait on him. 

Because instead of reciting dinner specials, some variation on that ramble would have tumbled out of my mouth. Or I would have just kept grinning like a fool, thinking about how cool it would be to have red hair and be able to move things with my mind...

So I spent the next several minutes stealing eleventy dozen more glances at his table and deciding whether talking to him could potentially get me any closer to Baz Lurhmann. And when I realized it probably would not, I left him alone. But when they got up to leave, I helped clear the table... and checked his credit card receipt.

James Marsden, indeed.  :)