Yep, it’s me again. No, I can’t believe it, either. Calm down.
As you can well imagine, an international star of my magnitude doesn’t get a lot of time to put his feet up and just chill with a Netflix or whatever you people are constantly braying about. My point being: Mandy’s time is Mandy’s time. End of story. Simple, right? Anyone could understand it, right?
Wrong.
Now this young lady, who couldn’t have been much older than 19, interrupted my afternoon macchiato at Au Bon Pain to inform me that she “just downloaded season five of Homeland” and it means so much to her because she has bipolar disorder and is interested in international espionage and—I let her keep going for a minute or two (or was it six hours?) while I watched the foam dissolve in my cup before I raised my shushing hand…