I had made a valiant attempt to give my living room the seasonal "lift" cheerily suggested on a number of morning TV shows as an antidote to the after Christmas, pre-Punxsutawney Phil, winter funk. I would have preferred an alternative quick fix – a trip to Aruba – but it wasn't in the cards. Being a perfectionist when it comes to décor, down to choosing the right shade of diffuser oil, I'd thrown myself into a whirlwind of weighty decorating decisions. Lamps, small coffee tables, glass vases and silk flowers had all been carefully positioned and ultimately rejected. I decided the shocking pink sofa pillows I had bought a few days before weren't right either. It was my fourth return to the local Marshall's store in a week. They thought I worked there. Trudging through slush and stinging sleet I headed for the store entrance, wondering if maybe a fringed footstool would do the trick. South Jersey winters can be interminable.

Marshall's wasn't crowded, probably due to the weather. Following a quick return of the offending pillows, I turned in the direction of the linen department at the back of the store. Nimbly passing through Ladies Skirts, Misses Blouses and the bathrobe section, I was just about to cross the aisle into Men's Furnishings when something made me stop dead in my tracks. There, in my peripheral vision was a most unusually attractive man. I began to studiously finger the silk ties hanging off a rack directly in front of me. Sliding my eyes down and to the left I took in his entire appearance. His hair was salt and pepper, shaved close to his well shaped head. He was wearing a black long sleeved T-shirt with some sort of metallic image emblazoned on the front. His khakis were well fitting and the shoes, simple but clearly expensive. A thick silver chain circled his neck. Even though I wasn't looking directly at him I could tell he was extremely good looking...and also somehow very familiar.

I searched my memory trying to place how I knew this man. Was he a former tai chi instructor at the gym? Did we meet once long ago at a party? Was he my dentist's brotherin- law introduced in the waiting room right before my last root canal? At that point, he was confidently browsing through a cellophane encased 3-pack of boxers. I racked my brain hoping to recall his name. Bent on catching his eye I moved closer. Clearing my throat, I prepared to make a witty off hand observation regarding the myriad underwear styles available. But just at that moment. he turned, boxers in hand and headed straight for the checkout disappearing from view without a backward glance.

Left standing amidst Fruit of the Loom, Jockey and Perry Ellis, I felt quite startled and somewhat shaky--any thoughts of interior design were out the window...and I still couldn't remember who he was although now his name seemed to be on the tip of my tongue. I went back out to my car. As I put the key in the ignition, the name George came to me... George? George I muttered...and then the puzzle piece slipped into place....The man I had just seen in Marshall's was Hollywood Hunk, Movie Star Extraordinaire and Truly Gorgeous in the Flesh...none other than George Clooney! With shaking hands and a hammering heart, I dialed my daughter's cell number. "I saw George Clooney in Marshall's!" I screamed. "Sure Ma" she said, snapping her chewing gum into the phone "So what's for dinner?"

Next I called my best friend Paula. "George Clooney was just in Marshall's!" I babbled. I was standing three feet away from him!" There was silence at the other end, and then Paula very quietly asked me if I'd had wine at lunch. I phoned many people, most of my friends and a few relatives. No one believed me. I even went back into the store and asked a saleslady if she had noticed anyone famous in the store that day. She didn't bother to make eye contact, just looked right past me and beckoned to the next customer in line.

But on the following day, I was vindicated. It was on the news that George Clooney had been in a minor motorcycle accident driving from South Jersey back north. He and his girlfriend had been in the area renting a Harley in Wildwood. I figure they probably stayed at a guest house and like many couples on vacation they had a fight. Maybe he stormed out in the middle of it, and she screamed after him "...and go get some new underwear!"

So I did see George that day in Marshall's...I'm just not sure if he actually saw me.