Sometimes it takes years to recognize a stupidity
On not knowing who you are talking to
The release of my books in English has been taking me back to an earlier life — the years when I ran a hotel in Cannes, and the people I happened to meet along the way.
If you run a hotel there long enough, especially during the Film Festival, you cross paths with all kinds of people. Conversations, dinners, parties. At the time they feel normal. Only years later do you realize how unusual some of those moments actually were.
Recently, I came across an old photograph of a very kind woman. We talked, laughed, and had a genuinely pleasant small talk together. I remember her telling me her name was Gini. Or at least, that’s how I remember it. I had no idea who she was
.
Out of curiosity, I ran the photo through Google’s image search.
It turned out her name wasn’t Gini at all.
The woman in the picture was Doris Roberts. By the time I met her, she had already won four Emmy Awards — and that same year she received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
When we spoke that evening, I had absolutely no idea who she was. Which, in hindsight, may explain why she smiled the way she did when she introduced herself.
Realizing this — even so many years later — made me feel like a complete fool. A harmless one, perhaps, but a fool nonetheless.
Doris Roberts passed away in 2016. So I will have to wait a little longer before I can meet her again and apologize — preferably somewhere with better lighting and fewer misunderstandings.
As for how I ended up there that evening at all: I knew the owner of the restaurant. The dinner was a fundraising event during the Cannes Film Festival, hosted by Elizabeth Taylor. A reception, a long dinner, an auction — the kind of evening where conversations happen naturally and careers are quietly impressive.
I met many people that night. Famous names, impressive lives.
And one very kind woman named “Gini”.