David deadpans a lot. He’s a really funny and well-versed guy who I instantly love. There’s no bullshit about him – no pretentious air that makes most actors and actresses insufferable. And when the subject of The X-Files finally can no longer be avoided, he indulges my fanboy-ism-ness and suffers through my Chris Farley-like probings along the lines of “Remember that time when Mulder was trying to find the truth, ’cause it was out there? That was awesome!”. But I don’t beat the topic into the ground, because I know personally that cult roles have a way of haunting a motherfucker (ask me how many times people point at me in the mall and say “Fly, fat-ass, fly!” Mind you, I’m only assuming here that they’re reciting the line from Mallrats). Indeed, as we’re waiting for our cars outside the restaurant, a guy walks by, points and says “Whoa! X-Files!” Without missing a beat, Duchovny offers “This is my life.”