Yesterday I went to the Gaugin exhibition and saw someone who I thought was famous

I saw him and went oh oh there is a famous man where is he from where is he from where is he from. He was walking round the exhibition with someone he obviously didn't know very well*. I wouldn't definitely say they were on a date, but they probably were. An exhibition seems like an extraordinarily High Pressure environment to choose for like a first or second date. The worst is having to stand in front of paintings and say things. It's even terrible when it's with someone you know well. The potential for being either incredibly bored or incredibly boring is generally too high.
ANYWAY.
I stared and stared at him and wondered where he was from, and convinced myself that he was extremely famous, and went on about it for ages, and then on the train home I realised that he was the actor who played Brooke Shields's husband on that show called Lipstick Jungle. I can't BELIEVE I remembered that. I can't BELIEVE I worked that out. I can't BELIEVE that some probably very crucial information was turfed out of my brain in order to make room for that. If I was writing a letter now, I would end it by saying
"And meanwhile it dawns on me by degrees that anyone who has ever accused me of caring too much about frivolous NONSENSE was only speaking the truth.
Yours as ever,
Rosie"


* For example: he didn't know that she spoke Spanish, or that she had a brother, or that she had never been to Florence.**
** I know this because I was SPYING.