Pinstripe denim pants
Jeannie had a late breakfast sandwich this morning, which tied her over to a late lunch. Though she vowed not to frequent Ed's Lobster Bar she wanted a simple lunch. Soup was ideal. Olive's did not offer a soup that interested her so she decided to have again the lobster bisque.
She was walking down Lafayette Street and was aware that there was a couple behind her. She wasn't paying attention to what they were saying other than that she knew they were behind her. The couple then came up in front of her and she couldn't help but take notice of the man's pants. She looked at it quizzically. The denim pants had pinstripes. Jeannie thought to herself, who the hell wears pinstripe jeans?! Not only that but she also noticed the denim pants were also shapely; bootcut she wondered. Then she thought to herself, who the hell does this guy think he is wearing shapely pinstripe denim pants with brown squarish tipped leather shoes and and a well worn brown leather jacket. Well, he must be some fancy foreign tourist because she never noticed any New Yorkers wearing pinstripe jeans previously. Where was the fashion police, she wondered. She then looked up and saw the back of his head; and it looked familiar. His mane was a fading brown, longish, and naturally feathered. The couple went off to the side to look at something in a storefront. Jeannie turned to look at the man's face. She only saw a glimpse of his face but it was enough for her to come up with who she thought it might be. She heard a deep and low murmur from the man. What he said was not audible, nor his voice. But it did not detract the possiblity. As she walked passed them slowly, she tried to steal another glimpse to confirm her suspicions. It was him! There was no doubt in her mind. She could not believe it. He was in New York. She continued down Lafayette Street wondering what she should do. Never had she recognized a famous person and had an opportunty to say hello. It's always from afar or too late. She slowed down her pace and she could feel them, and his low murmur getting closer. The traffic light at the corner of Spring Street stopped the pedestrians. This is good, she thought. She turned slightly and saw him approach the corner and stopped right next to her. She noticed his life long partner went on the other side of the waiting crowd. He was standing next to her; right next to her. She could not believe it! Nobody else noticed him. She turned away, her heart racing, her stomach filled with butterflies. She wondered whether or not she should say something. She guessed he was on vacation and felt slightly guilty to intrude on him but this was a chance of a life time, and she knew TH would totally encourage her to say something. She turned back around to see his back towards her. She reached out to tap him on his shoulder but then pulled back and instead said, "Excuse me." He turned around and it was definitely him. "Um, are you who I think you are?" Jeannie asked. "Well, who do you think I am?" he returned with his trademark reserved dryness, his one brow cocked as he pulled his leather jacket together. At that instant moment Jeannie wondered experlatively if he was upset with her for bothering him? He was looking at her, and he was intimidating. But she pushed foreward. "Are you Mr. Rickman?" He said something but she didn't hear what he said only that she knew he said that she was correct in his typical reserved voice. She smiled, excited she was speaking to him. And then he quickly added that he didn't want his picture taken as he looked down at her hand. She then remembered and clutched her iPhone. "Oh, course not. No, I wouldn't even..." she was able to muttered, shaking her free hand. She really had no intentions of taking his picture as she had briefly forgotten that she even had her iPhone in hand. She noticed he smiled? She needed to act quickly as the light would soon change and she didn't want to hold him up. So she told him that she thought he was a great actor. He smiled again and said thank you. The light changed, and everybody at the north corner of Spring Street crossed over to the south corner. Jeannie pulled back a bit so as to not give the impression she was following them but Ed's Lobster Bar was not too far from the corner. And then it hit her; Alan Rickman wearing shapely bootcut pinstripe denim pants?


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