The most surreal thing that happened this weekend - more surreal than the girl who stopped and stared at me, more surreal than the homeless dude who really wanted to shake my hand this morning, even more surreal than anything that happened at the "Harvey" cast party (and that's saying a lot) - was that I sang an improvised love song to the President of the University this weekend.

You see, the publicity director for our improv troupe happened to be talking to El Presidente last week, and he mentioned the show. EP wrote something down on the back of an envelope. "I didn't see what he was writing," said the publicity director as he relayed the story to us. "He could have been writing 'This guy is a fucking moron.'"

But then, sure enough, he walks in to the back of the room, with an entourage of four, either in the middle of Story Story Die or right before Foreign Film Fest, depending on who you believe. We had put Love Song on the set list just in case he showed up, so a nod to Scott was all it took. Next thing you know, he's sitting on a chair in the middle of the stage. Jenn and Matt, sitting in the front row, are so embarrassed they're covering their faces and practically crying.

Needless to say, a situation like that is comic gold right from the outset. It wasn't necessarily the best game of Love Song I've ever done, but it didn't need to be. I made fun of his baldness in an oblique but totally obvious way, and managed to use the phrase "tall freakish flightless bird".

He shook our hands afterwards, so I think it went over pretty well, and he was a very good sport about it.

But it was just so weird.