it's not everyday you just happen to see leo tolstoy along the path to the parkade. leo tolstoy in the downtown eastside! that tolstoy, always with the working class ethic. oh, but this is gastown. i suppose an author of such eminence may set some boundaries.

i originally walked right by him, but then turned around and came up to him sort of nonchalantly. didn't want to seem like too much of a fanboy. oh wait, i haven't read anything he's written.

that calmed my nerves. so i started off by complimenting him on his selection of attire for the evening and how in fact i had almost worn the exact same outfit this morning. "boy, that would have been embarassing!" he stared off into space, unflinching.

hmmm. i thought it was a pretty good joke. i've used it a few times now. that's probably it, i've used it too many times. my delivery must be off. maybe. must be.

i asked about the rumour that the original title for "war and peace" was actually "war, what is it good for?".

he wasn't amused. at all.

i clenched my toes. errggh, i doubt the great russian novelist has seen that episode of seinfeld, or even heard of edwin starr.

somehow i made a clever segue to "anna karenina". i'm not quite sure how it went but it was something about awkward moments and anna's convictions. i was trying the learned approach since it appeared that 19th century russians will have nothing to do with humour. but it's hard being learned about anna karenina when you haven't actually read it. surely in one of those hundreds of pages, anna had an awkward moment! geez, how could you not in 19th century russia?

he saw right through me. i had to quickly avert my eyes, looking down at my shoes. he wasn't even bothering with me at this point. you write a few acclaimed novels and suddenly you can't even talk to people. jerk! i thought about the conversation brad and ed had in fight club, about which historical figure they'd like to fight. leo tolstoy was quickly rising on my list.

out of the corner of my eye i saw george washington climbing up the stairs, probably to take tolstoy away. i took off; i didn't want to talk to george. i've seen him around before; he's animated and effeminate. and the truth is, i'm a little scared of him. but it's the good kind of scared. except for that wig of his. for the wig, it's the bad kind. i'm sure we could be friends, but i simply don't want to bother right now.

besides, if george washington hadn't come, i think i would have punched leo tolstoy in the gut.