Here's the world famous blogger setting down to write another world famous blog post.
Oh, excuse me, I have to pose for a picture for some fans. My cheek muscles get so sore from all that smiling! The autographs are easier and by now I've perfected my flourishing and dramatic half-second signature. But either pictures or autographs I don't really mind. I feel quite honored and humbled by it all.
Okay, okay, okay. I'm not famous like that. But after many years, often prominently at the front desk of an extremely busy, almost urban public library, I am just a little, teensy bit famous. Rare is any extended urban excursion for me that does not involve someone staring at me quizzically. Isn't this how it happens to real famous people who are laying low in public?
"I know you from somewhere, but I just can't place it." It's a question posing as a musing. I don't know about George Clooney, but it causes me to go all humble, almost involuntarily guarded yet gracious, magnanimous and patient.
"The Library." I say simply, much as George Clooney might say quietly, almost rueful about his wonderfulness "Ocean's Eleven." The Library, Ocean's Eleven, no more than that is needed for famous people like us.
"Oh! Right. I knew it. You've been there for years, haven't you?"
It doesn't matter what they say, it's all as if they're complimenting me vociferously. "Yes, many years now, thank you." I am humbled by my fans and their adulation, but I'd better smoothly wind it up. They'd probably talk to me forever if they could, and we don't want to draw a crowd, you know. My wife and I want to get to the cafe before it closes.
"So nice to see you." I say in farewell. I don't recognize these people at all, but it's a big day for them, seeing one of their ten favorite library clerks at large in the city. I'm off duty, but a library clerk is never entirely off duty.
"See you at the library." I say.
"See you at the library." They say.