Observed, and found wanting

Leaving the Waverly Inn on a cold night, I ran into a paparazzo lurking outside the door, giant camera raised. Seeing me through his viewfinder, he lowered the camera and grunted out a disappointed, "uh ... oh," then stepped out of my way, averting his eyes in disdain. The two of us stood alone on the sidewalk, awkwardly, while I searched for a cab. No TMZ for me.