Dear Lord, please forgive me for humiliating the poor Philadelphia tourist who walked up to me at our hotel and asked, “Are you the lady who wrote that book, Love, Montana?”
To which I replied, “Why, yes that would be me!”
His response, “Huh, you don’t look anything like the photo on your book. You look a whole lot older in person.”
My reply, “Oh really . . . come to think of it, I think I know you too! Aren’t you the prick who never wrote a book, still lives in your parent’s basement, with the blow-up girlfriend? You look a whole lot smarter online.” Amen.