We were in Kalapawai this morning and I looked around to see a gun strapped to a man’s leg, and as my eyes scanned upward they bulged and my mouth gaped. He had on black pants, black shirt and a baseball cap. Here’s what happened next:

“[sucking in air sound for a long time, too long, like count to 5]Are you a REAL, LIVE, SECRET SERVICE AGENT???!!!”

“Uh, yes.”

“Where are your sunglasses?”

“In the truck.”

“You look so young. And so NORMAL.”

“Uh. Young, and normal?”

I managed to strike up a more intelligible conversation at that point, when I realized I was being ridiculous. I was so excited to see a real agent. I think I’d be less impressed if Obama himself came in the store. But a secret service agent. That is COOL. This guy was so nice – named Eric – and apparently went into the service after a stint in the Air Force, then college. I would love to talk to one for longer, but I managed to learn that he’s been on the road more than ever before this past year, and that it’s rough on family life. I invited him to go running with me sometime so that I can enjoy feeling important and protected. He said yeah, maybe he could!