MyEvilDucky

You may not remember, but late last summer you went to a popular restaurant in Culver City (the one with the outside seating that’s first-come, first-serve). You pleasantly asked if you could sit at our table since there were no other seats left, and we happily obliged. After glancing at you about five times, I realized who you were. Having just completed a marathon of Breaking Bad’s entire run, I awkwardly asked if I could shake your hand, and you did!

Then my husband told you that he’s been trying to get his big brother (also sitting with us) to watch your show for months, and that he still hadn’t.

Then you said, in a menacing, methodical voice (aka Heisenberg), “Your brother’s a pussy.”

We were giddy for the next week straight. Actually, we’ve been giddy ever since and have renamed the restaurant The Bryan Cranston Experience. Aside from our wedding, I believe it stands as the greatest moment of our married life. To this day, we tell the story to anyone who will hear it. We should probably stop.

So no question, just wanted you to know how much you rock!

My husband just said "I'm calling my brother up and telling him Bryan Cranston just called him a pussy again."

Bookstore worker here, in a very conservative area.

I just wanted to thank you for your book. I had so many awkward conversations with customers who came in and didn't know how to ask for it. Handing it over to them felt very secret-clubbish. How does this make you feel?

Also, to the 12 year old boy who "prank called" our store: Yes, I could tell you were 12. Yes, I knew you were just really excited to say the word "shit" over the phone.