My Name Is Earl At The Chelsea

I was coming into the hotel the other day, when who should I run into checking in at the front desk but that Earl guy from "My Name is Earl."  I nodded to him, and then I stood there waiting for the elevator, but I noticed that that Earl guy kept staring at me.  What, is he waiting for me to acknowledge him, I wondered, to ask, hey, aren't you that Earl guy?  Maybe even ask for his autograph or something? Well, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.  The elevator came, and, with Earl still staring at me, I got on and went up.  It wasn't until I got to about the third floor that I realized, hey, I know why he was staring at me: it's because I'm carrying this 5 foot tall painting that I just found in the trash.  I'm sure he was thinking, wow, there's one of those crazy Chelsea artists I've been hearing so much about; the bohemian weirdness is starting already.

When I got to the eight floor I told a bohemina girl about my recent star sighting, but she seemed more interested in the painting.  (Ed Hamilton)