So I'm talking to the sister of an ex-roommate's girlfriend, a woman I see once every six months or so. Normally she doesn't give me the time of day, but tonight she seems genuinely interested in me. We're with a bunch of people at the pre-release screening of a movie and she's ignoring the friends she came with to talk to me.

The conversation drifts around a bit until I say, "I'm in a band," and her eyes light up.

"We're called the Scattergods and we've almost scraped together enough money to cut a demo tape. A friend of a friend works at Arista and he said he can get the brass to listen to it when we're done."

Her eyes are wide and she leans forward, smiling. "Really?" she says.

"No," I say. "It's just that my life's a lot more exciting since I started making stuff up."

She looks startled.

"Plus, I'm the King of Norway."

She stares at me for a moment, says "Heh," and turns and starts talking to her friends.

So I'm at work, at the end of the day, chatting with a few people. The fact that I cut off my beard comes up and someone asks me why I did it. I say:

"Hey, you're bored, you've got a razor -- something's gonna get shaved."

There's an awkward moment of silence, and I really wish I had thought to add, "Good thing I don't have a cat."

So I'm at work and--

Hey.

Wait a minute.

I'm at work.

Oh. My. God.

How the hell did that happen?