I scan the room, clocking the exits, a habit I picked up after a particularly aggressive fan cornered me in a restroom in Prague. Most volunteers appear to be retirees or enthusiastic high school students trying to pad their college applications. No one seems to recognize me, which thrills me more than I was expecting.
I had forgotten what it feels like to be anonymous.
I kind of dig it.
There’s a woman in the corner, setting up camera equipment. She’s not looking at me, but I’m wary of anyone with a camera outside of a sanctioned press conference.
Plus, there’s something about her that keeps my gaze flicking in her direction.
Brown hair falls in waves past her shoulders, and she doesn’t act like someone comfortable behind a lens. It’s like she’s never seen some of this equipment before.
Curious why she’s here then, at a film festival. Hanging out with volunteers, no less. I shift my position, angling away from her camera.
“Now, as you all know, the Kilt Valley Film Festival is entering its twentieth year,” the coordinator continues, “and we’re expecting our biggest turnout yet. Which means we need all hands on-deck to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
My gaze drifts back to the camera woman. She’s wrestling with a tripod that appears to have a mind of its own, one leg stubbornly refusing to extend. I hide a smile as she talks to the thing, even though I can’t hear what she’s saying. I can guess well enough.
When the tripod finally surrenders with an audible click, she does a small fist pump that’s super cute. It makes me chuckle.
The sound must carry because she looks up, her eyes meeting mine. There’s no flash of recognition, no widening of pupils that I’ve come to expect when people realize who I am. Instead, she offers a rueful smile and a tiny shrug that has equipment malfunction – zero, me – one written all over it.
I grin back before I can think of a reason not to and we have a moment. The realization is a jolt and a half. It’s been a long time since I’ve done much of anything off-script, let alone with an attractive woman who has no idea who I am.
This is fantastic. I could get used to being a nobody.
