| You choose to say something about his behavior. He is just being rude now. "You are not what I thought you would be like," you chide. He doesn't respond. "Infact, I don't know what makes you think that you can just snub people off like they don't matter. We matter. We pay for your salary by our support. We are the very essence of why you work. If it wasn't for the fans then there wouldn't be a freakin' Owen Wilson. You would just be some sad guy working at Blockbuster. And furthermore..." "Listen up, lady," Owen interrupts, "I'm looking over something that is very important. I'm sorry I don't have time to talk about tea and crumpets with you, but it is vital that I get some work done." He abruptly stands, grabs a pen from his shirt pocket, and roughly scrawls out his signature on a napkin. Owen throws it at you before striding towards the exit. Oh no! Maybe you misjudged him! |
| Meeting Owen Wilson |
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