Chatting With Cathy
by Randi Proescholdt 

“Nothing cool or funky ever happens to me,” said the middle-aged woman with long, curly, brown hair.  I was sitting on a bench in front of Hancher Box Office in the Old Capitol Mall with two close friends and this woman I had just met.  A few Thursday evening shoppers wandered by as we chatted.  “Everything cool happens to my sister Darla.  But I could tell you stories about her... Do you know who Clint Eastwood is?”

Whoa. Not the direction I expected the conversation to take.  I nodded, and the woman proceeded.

***

“Hello.”

Darla looked up from her vodka cranberry to see who the voice was coming from.  She was almost speechless when she saw the black-and-gray-haired man who had sat down next to her at the bar.

“Hi…” she choked out.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Darla.”

“I’m Clint,” he said. 

When she had heard he was in town filming some new movie called Pink Cadillac, she hoped she might catch a glimpse of him.  She thought it would be amazing if a celebrity were staying at the same hotel, which actually did seem like a possibility, considering the luxuriousness of the one she was staying at here in Lake Tahoe.  However, she had no idea she would end up dancing with, and even kissing, Clint Eastwood.

“Care to dance?” he asked.

Darla stood and readjusted her blond hair and tight black dress in a daze.  She took Clint’s hand and he led her to the dance floor next to a stage where a singer warbled a Frank Sinatra song.  She let him lead her as she tried to decide if this was really him or if she had had too much to drink.  Before she knew it, the song was over.

“Well, it was great to meet you,” said Clint, “but it’s time I head out.  Goodnight, Darla.”

Darla looked up at him to say goodbye, but she was not expecting him to lean forward and press his lips against hers.  She stood in shock as he walked away, then put her palm to her forehead and started to laugh.  She couldn’t wait to tell her sister about this.

***

“Wow,” I said, raising my eyebrows.  Darla was a lucky woman.

“That’s just the kind of thing that happens to my sister,” Kathy said, matter-of-factly.  “Then this other time, about four years ago, maybe, Darla was gonna go to Vegas.  She asked me to come too, but I couldn’t because of work.  It was around this time of year.  I really like cowboys, and she had asked me who my absolute favorite cowboy was.

“‘Justin McBride,’” I told her.  ‘I’d like to have his autograph.’”

***

Darla stepped outside the hotel and into the dark night, her ears still ringing from the Justin McBride concert.  She and a couple friends were going to catch a cab and go to a party.  Despite the late hour, plenty of traffic still meandered through the well-lit streets, passing by the hotels and casinos the city was known for.  

As Darla and her friends approached the street, she noticed an illuminated figure in a cowboy hat under a nearby street lamp.  Nothing unusual about that, considering they had just gotten out of a country music concert.  He turned to face Darla and her friends as they walked near him.  Part of his face was hidden in the shadow of his hat, but they immediately knew who this man was.

“Justin McBride!” Darla’s friend squealed.

 “We were just at your concert!” Darla told him.  “It was amazing!”

“Well, thank you,” he drawled, that familiar crooked smile spreading across his face.

“Do you think we could get a picture with you?” Darla’s friend asked. Justin agreed, and a passerby was recruited to take the picture with Darla’s cellphone.  Justin also signed their concert tickets before getting into his taxi that had just arrived, leaving Darla and her friends awestruck as they watched the taillights disappear around a corner.

***

“Darla gave me her autographed ticket,” said the woman, “but the picture didn’t turn out.  You could see his smile, though, so you knew it was really him.  I was just thinking about that story because the PBR, Professional Bull Riding, is going on right now.”
             
“Those are great stories,” I told her.  I meant it, too.  When I had begun speaking to this woman, I had been expecting to hear about something much more mundane than celebrity encounters.  “Thank you so much!  What was your name?”
             
“Kathy.”

We said goodbye to Kathy, thanking her again.  She left me thinking about the powerful connections of all people, even the ones who don’t know each other.  Though I had never met Darla, I felt as if I had been there when she met Clint Eastwood and Justin McBride.  My image of Darla and her encounters was so clear I felt I knew her. 

Kathy was my connection to Darla, and Darla was my connection to Clint Eastwood and Justin McBride.  As long as these stories are told, they will continue to connect whoever hears them with everyone else who has heard them.  So even though Darla got to have all the “cool or funky” experiences Kathy didn’t have, Kathy is still connected to her favorite bull rider and Dirty Harry through the great network of human relationships that links everyone together in some way.