Anyway, Rick Fox was joined by a cadre of agent/publicist types including two women in business suits, a guy in a blazer and dark t-shirt (I know, I know), and an elderly woman who looked like she'd been knocking around the industry for decades. As the group chatted about who knows what, Rick spent a good portion of the evening smiling politely and nodding, just barely disguising either boredom or fatigue. Luckily, this celebrity-anchored table was located right at the front of the dining room which made it easy for several other agents and friends to stop by and say hi to their peers over the course of the evening. You would have thought these people were receiving a lifetime achievement award with all the "well-wishers" dropping by. Yeah, this table was the shit, and if you knew what you were doing, you were going to put in an appearance.

Well, as the evening went on, Rick seemed to become more animated and lively. But then the inevitable happened. A non-agent, non-producer, non-INDUSTRY jab went up and TALKED to him. And yes, that was the sound of a record screeching to a halt. I mean, can you imagine it? Some homely looking guy, clearly from out of town, was standing at the table, and here he was chatting off an NBA player's ear. An NBA player!

The man was decently loud, and it sounded like he and his family had ties to North Carolina, aka Rick Fox's alma mater. Ultimately, the little interaction ended with the guy saying Rick should come by their table afterwards. Oh silly plebeian. Don't get your hopes up.

Anyway, it just so happened that my table and Rick's table rose to leave at around the same time (I swear, I'm not a stalker!). Would this mean I'd be engaging in some "play it cool" activity at the valet? No. Because Rick actually went over to the family and sat down with them. Now honestly, that is awesome. Whether or not you're a fan of his, if you're at a restaurant and an NBA player sits down with you, that's just sweet (unless it's some low level bench warmer like Mike Dunleavy).