Here’s how he describes his first hit:
I look at him intently, he’s about six inches in front of me. A long pause as I study his face and especially note the nose. He waits, expecting, knowing, what’s next. He’s shorter than me, in a white cap, white t-shirt and maybe white jeans. Little bit of blonde stubble here and there on his face the way those poor blonde guys who have no beards let happen in lieu of anything else. Maybe he’s a bit tired from last night? hard to tell, seems as relaxed as ever. I decide hell, yes, it is Owen and give a tiny decisive blink. He blinks back in acknowledgment. I give him a little punch on his shoulder and say Hey, how’re you doing? I’m doing real good, he says slowly.
Then Bob gets into an argument with the guy at the counter of the Whole Foods smoothie bar when the poor fellow admits to not knowing who Owen Wilson is, saying: “Well, if you don’t know I guess it makes no sense to tell you now does it?”
Anyway, if you’ve got a line on badges or parties for the guy, send me word.