(I’m walking down Broadway and it’s so hot I can barely think so I drop under an awning and realize that I’m standing next to Steve Nash)
STEVE NASH: Brutal today, huh?
ME: Yeah. […] HolyshityoureSteveNash
STEVE NASH: (chuckles) Ha ha. Yeah.
ME: Are you aware that you are very possibly the coolest person in the world?
STEVE NASH: (chuckles politely but, you can tell, slightly warily) I don’t know, there are a lot of people in the world.
ME: Okay. But top… 10. 12.
STEVE NASH: (rolls eyes up, like he’s counting people in 20th story windows, then continues as if by instruction) Higher.
ME: 48. 50.
STEVE NASH: (bulges eyes at me)
STEVE NASH: I can live with top 30.
(We high five)
ME: Hey remember when you Tweeted that picture of your breakfast?
STEVE NASH: From China?
ME: Yeah. That was awesome.
ME: I could go for some food. Hey, let me ask you a question. That was all eggs and sausage and shit. I remember when I read that you don’t eat sugar. That’s true, right?
STEVE NASH: (nodding)
ME: Okay, so. How the fuck do you do that?
STEVE NASH: (laughs)
ME: It’s SUGAR! YOU CANNOT AVOID IT.
STEVE NASH: I do.
ME: I call bullshit on this entire enterprise. You’re misleading the public.
STEVE NASH: (suddenly trying to grasp if I’m serious)
ME: This… this is an outrage.
STEVE NASH: Now you wait just here…
ME: (whips out Pixie Stix)
STEVE NASH: Whoa. Careful with that.
ME: (tears top of one off) I’ll do it.
STEVE NASH: You just carry Pixie Stix around?
ME: (grabs him by the face, jumps, pours it in his mouth, he grimaces and spits it out like it’s salt.)
(I start running.)
STEVE NASH: Get that guy!
(By this time there are a few people watching, and a couple guys stand in front of me, blocking my way. One of them, like several others around us have taken out cell-phone cameras and are taking video.)
(STEVE NASH approaches me and is kind of menacing.)
STEVE NASH: What’s your problem, bro?
ME: I just…
STEVE NASH: You just WHAT? (He’s standing right over me now)
(In one quick, effortless motion, he pantses me, revealing boxer shorts with vegetable prints on them.)
STEVE NASH: Nice squash. (Everyone laughs.)
ME: (tries to run, falls over shorts)
STEVE NASH: Have a nice trip. See you next fall. (everyone is dying now.)
ME: Yeah well… you’ll never win a championship.
STEVE NASH: (suddenly downtrodden) Stop it.
ME: Oh, no snappy comeback? You never could play defense.
STEVE NASH: (angry again, pulls a handful of things from pocket, starts throwing them at me) Yeah… but I can play offense.
ME: Ow! Ow! Wait a second.
(STEVE NASH smiles)
ME: Those are MENTOS!
(he guzzles a handful of them, sprints away)
ME: (yelling) Top 20!
(he gives a thumbs up; 20 minutes later, a stray Mentos thwacks me in the head, but he is nowhere to be seen)