John Doe

The day before yesterday, a man rang the doorbell at Sermig and asked me, “Excuse me, I’m looking for so-and-so, I have to deliver him a package.” I replied, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know where so-and-so is at the moment. If you give me a moment, I’ll try to find out where he is.” “Yes, thank you.” I made a few phone calls and was told that so-and-so was currently recording in a studio. “I’m sorry, but they tell me he’s recording. As soon as he’s finished, they’ll let him know.” The man waited patiently until so-and-so arrived. “There he is!” I said to him. “We made it.” Meanwhile, a school group arrived and, seeing so-and-so and the man, started getting overexcited, saying, “I can’t believe it, so-and-so and that guy are here… let’s ask for a selfie.” Only then did I realize that so-and-so and the man were somehow famous, and that I was completely out of the loop. Gloria, who was at the switchboard with me, came over and said, “Do you know who that is?” “Who, the man with so-and-so? … Not really.” She showed me their social media pages with millions of followers—among whom I am not included. The first thought that came to me was this: “How beautiful it is to meet a person without the filter you have when you think you already know them in some way!” So I’m grateful for having left social media some time ago. Then, as he was leaving, the man greeted me and, I don’t know why, I felt the need to apologize for not recognizing him. And he replied, “Don’t worry—I think you’re the only normal one.”

Andrea Go
NP January 2026