I have been called many things: Brent, Brenters, Hightower, Geffe and my new favorite Geffe de los Sombreros Rojos (Boss of the Red Hats, which happened to be one of the few things I understood while sitting in house full of Spanish speakers for 20 minutes). I'm sure I've also been called other things: jackass, jerk, nerd, geek and so on and so forth (there's no need to dwell).
Last weekend I was driving down Figueroa just south of the USC campus. While waiting for a stoplight in my little red Mazda from the backseat Joanne informed us that a guy was staring at us. I looked around Camille and, indeed, a man was staring back at me with a huge smile on his face.
"He must really like Camille," I said. The man then gestured that Camille should roll down the window. After a moment's hesitation, she did.
"He's a lucky guy," the man said. This was met with roars of laughter from my car and Camille responding that I am, in fact, a lucky man. The light turned green and darted down the street.
For the next 10 minutes (or the time it took to drop the girls off at their cars) Camille and Joanne took turns filling the silence with quiet giggles that then turned into fresh peels of laughter. For months whenever the three of us have gone out on our "family" trips, Camille has taken great pains to tell perfect strangers that I am a lucky guy. Now, a complete stranger has told her before she had the chance.
The next day, all Camille and Joanne could say was, "Well, you are a lucky guy." Who knew?