I enjoy learning everything I can about my favorite writers. In return, I think most writers like to know who their readers are. To help you know what makes me who I am, I try to share a few personal details each week. Believe it or not, when writing this column I’m able to channel my inner extrovert.

Conversations are actually difficult for me and I’m really bad at the pedestrian dialogue that makes up small talk. I usually find myself staring into the distance when the conversation shifts to weather percentages. But talk to me about selective breeding from the plant species Brassica Oleracea and I’m all ears. Google it, really! It’s pretty cool.

I’ve written about some of my time as a chef, and I’ve shared stories about my current career as a horticulturist. But I haven’t shared what provoked me to sit down in front of a computer and start typing words for others to read. I’ve always been a reader and I find word play fascinating. I enjoy literature so much that I began to wonder if I could write too. So one day, I just began typing. Like cooking, I felt inspired by my favorite authors just as I’ve been by my favorite chefs.

In particular, one of my favorite writers is David Sedaris. Last year he came to speak at Millsaps College in October. The 17th to be exact, which happens to be my and Shannon’s anniversary. Like any good husband would do for his anniversary, I thought of myself first and overtly hinted that we should attend Sedaris’ essay reading.

“We might even get to meet him,” I said. Not knowing much about the author, but loving me much more than I deserve, Shannon made my hopes come true and surprised me with the tickets. In return, I treated her to scallops for dinner. An enchanted evening was in the making.

After a wonderful meal, we meandered over to Millsaps College. We spent time with the other attendees in the foyer, when what do you know, out walks David Sedaris with a handful of markers and a wry smile. He sat down at the table by the entry doors and it was a free-for-all opportunity to meet him and get an autograph.

This was it! This was my moment. But what does one say to the king of sardonic satire? I had one job and that was to not blow it.
Small talk would have been egregious and my mind went into overdrive. I wanted to make a lasting impression, but what to say? It was too late, there we stood face to face with Mr. Sedaris and he had already asked our names. Shannon, with the grace of an eagle soaring through the clouds, smiled her calm and beautiful smile and said I’m Shannon and this is my husband Clay. He shook our hands and the two of them began to converse and laugh like old friends.

What was happening? She’s never read one of his books! She didn’t know him. He was supposed to be talking to me. As they carried on, my jealousy turned to desperation. The two of them were relishing in their newly found adoration for one another and I was fading into obscurity. As he closed the book he just signed for us and handed it to Shannon, I blurted out “I was on Top Chef!”

He looked at me, she looked at him, then they looked at one another. He then politely said “that’s cute” and began signing the book we purchased for my mother. As he handed it back to Shannon and not me, I’m pretty sure I saw them wink at one another and giggle.

We walked to the other side of the room as I replayed the agonizing events in my head. Let’s at least see what he wrote in my mother’s book, I said. Presuming that it would say something to the effect of “How lucky you must feel to have Mr. Top Chef for a son,” I eagerly flipped to the first page.

There it was. The final act of duplicity written in large playful lettering. “Dear Susan, your daughter enchanted me,” signed “David Sedaris.” I was speechless! Not only had David orphaned me from my mother and replaced me with my wife in one stroke of the pen, but he felt the need to swoon for her in the process. I closed the book and begrudgingly walked into the auditorium. The show was delightful, and we spent the rest of the night laughing at him and me until we arrived back in Columbus.

The following morning, my taste for reading had soured, so I opened my computer and began to write a new story. Our recently autographed books were within eyesight so I picked up a copy of Larry Brown and placed it on top. Not yet David… The bitterness of perfidy still lingered.

As for Mr. Sedaris, he wasn’t wrong. I’m enchanted by her too. And without his blatant disregard for me and my socially awkward outburst, I would have one less story to tell.

Clay Bowen is a Columbus native who cooked professionally as a chef in fine dining for 12 years and appeared on the third season of Top Chef. He is also a licensed landscape horticulturist and is currently the general manager of a local landscaping company. Bowen writes in his free time and is working on a book about his experiences and travel.