I met a football player in the elevator of my Chicago hotel on Sunday. He was staying on the 24th floor; I was on the 23rd. It was near check-out time, so the elevator was stopping at nearly every floor for people to squeeze on, and the football player and I chatted on the ride down to the lobby. I learned that he played for the Philadelphia Eagles and that his name was Mike. He was wearing warm-ups and gigantic diamond earrings. He was on his way to a game soon.
I forgot all about my elevator chat about two seconds after I exited the elevator--I was on my way to brunch at Bloomingdales, after all--but I remembered when Will picked me up from the airport. I reported on the conversation and briefly described the player, at which time Will basically lost his mind because the person I met sounded precisely like Michael Vick.
Who? Yeah, my reaction, too.
Michael Vick, as it turns out, would be the guy who spent 23 months in prison on federal felony charges for the extensive and illegal interstate dog fighting ring he operated in rural Virginia.
Oh, yeah. That guy.
So, I googled Michael Vick and, sure enough, he was totally the guy I chatted with in the elevator for a 23-floor ride. Certainly not my most exciting celebrity sighting (especially since I had no idea who he was until, like, 12 hours after the fact), but he did have a 34-yard dash against the Bears on Sunday night (whatever that means) and I'm pretty sure he's the only celebrity felon I've had the pleasure of meeting.
On recounting the story, one of my classmates asked whether, had I known it was Vick, I would have done anything differently. I think he expected me to admit that I would have snubbed Vick for his appalling treatment of animals but, in true blogger fashion, I replied that "yes, I totally would have done something differently--I would have gotten a photo of Vick and me for Slice of Pink." Say Cheese!