Going along with the mishmash nature of this blog, this is just something I need to get down for posterity, because it amused the dickens out of me.

First, the set-up: When I lived in Manhattan, I pretty much had a standard route to work. Roll out of bed, cross Third Avenue, walk up 39th. So, I used to pass the W hotel (both the Court and the Tuscany!) every single day. And almost every single day, I passed this really hot door guy, whom I decided was a cross between Ricky Martin and Alec Musser, who briefly played Del on All My Children. For the sake of brevity, he just became Hottie Door Guy. (Who wants to walk past a guy and think “Hey, that’s the Ricky Martin-Alec Musser bastard love child guy,” right?) Mind you, I never talked to Hottie Door Guy. He was just part of my daily routine. Glance over, admire, grin, keep moving…nothing too overt. Being that I’m not, like, a stalker or anything.

Since moving back to Queens, I’ve obviously given up that standard walk to work. (Or at least swapped it for another and included a train ride.) But I was in the city last weekend and actually saw Hottie Door Guy on Saturday, by the hotels, which cracked me up. Because I haven’t seen him in months, right? But wait, it gets better! Today, I’m walking home, in Queens, literally a block from my apartment…and there is Hottie Door Guy. Walking his dog! Yes. He apparently lives here. In my new neighborhood.

Hi. Larious.

In a city this size, with this many people, it never fails to amuse me that you can still find familiar faces.