I had my first two "fan encounters" within a week of each other, and I'm still trying to come to terms with this interest in my calorie-counting success.
Since starting this project for The Shape We're In project here at the Time Free press, I've had plenty of friends tell me they read these weekly updates and offer encouragement. I've also had lots of readers I don't know send attagirls or dieting suggestions by e-mail.
By fan encounters, I am referring to strangers who read the columns, recognize me by the accompanying photo and approach me to give me their feedback.
There's a totally different dynamic in accountability between a friendly anonymous e-mail and a face-to-face encounter with someone you've never met.
Fan encounters are probably old hat for longtime columnists such as Mark Kennedy, Dalton Roberts or Clif Cleaveland.
For a column-writing rookie like myself, they freaked me out.
In part, because both times I was busted with food in my hands that you won't find listed on the Jenny Craig plan.
The first encounter was the day I got home from the beach. With no groceries in the house, I went to Moe's for a carry-out dinner.
As I stood in line, I noticed a lady watching me as though she knew me. I started wracking my brain trying to recall if she was someone I had interviewed.
As I stood by the cashier waiting for Divine Intervention to supply me her name, I was startled by a voice. There she was beside me, telling me how much she enjoyed my columns.
I must have had that wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look because she stopped to verify, "You are Susan Pierce aren't you?"
After I replied I was, she said she had especially enjoyed the one about my toddler granddaughter's first walk in the Chickamauga Chase. She was very sweet, offered some encouraging words, then returned to her seat.
The whole time, I just stood there with that wide-eyed, startled look. I didn't even think to ask her name, and barely remembered to thank her as she was leaving.
All I could think was: OH. MY. GOD! What did she just catch me ordering?
Such paranoia really wasn't warranted because I had made a pretty good choice: a vegetarian soft taco. But I felt paranoid about even being caught in a restaurant, as though in some way I had let her down.
The second brush with fame happened the following weekend.
My older son is a high school baseball coach and I went to watch his team play in the district tournament.
As I walked up to pay my $5 -- juggling a purse, wallet and Krystal cherry freeze between my hands -- the lady working the gate asked, "Are you Ms. Pierce?"
I figured she'd made the connection between my son and I.
When I answered I was, she then said she enjoyed the columns and had been reading them even before she'd realized I was the mother of her son's coach.
All I could think was: Caught red-handed with a cherry freeze!
But at least this time I didn't freeze.
I thanked her, and walked away vowing that from now on I'll be more mindful of what I order when I'm out and about.
These two encounters reinforced that lesson on behavior we all learn as a child: You never know who's watching and the impression you'll leave.