Joel (Quenneville) and John (Dietz) ... shooting the breeze at the car wash
Moments after paying for my car to be washed Monday, I stood in the waiting area, looked outside and there he was.
The man and his mustache: Joel Quenneville.
Catching my eye, he came in, shook my hand and said with a smile: "Frankie always gives me a hard time that I don't get my car washed enough," referring to the Hawks' parking attendant.
Even though we live about a mile from each other, this was the first time I'd run into Quenneville in public - and, incredibly, it happened 21 hours before he was fired as Blackhawks coach.
Like all reporters on the beat, our relationship was professional. We'd ask a question and he'd answer it, many times in what we'd call "Q speak."
Once in a blue moon we'd get a good one-liner, but they were few and far between.
My favorite came in my first full season on the beat, a day or two after Quenneville misspoke about the schedule during his postgame news conference. (I think he said Vancouver when he meant Calgary).
During the subsequent presser, Quenneville didn't answer right away after I asked a question about the Hawks' next opponent. When I clarified who they'd be playing, he broke out into a huge smile, winked at me and said, "I just wanted to see if you knew who it was."
It was a rare moment of levity.
For reasons that are his own, Quenneville didn't want to get close to the print and web reporters covering the team.
We have a job, he has a job and that's the way it is.
So although we've known each other for four years, this was about to be our first casual conversation.
We talked about his kids, a sandwich shop across the street that he loves to frequent ("They're huge Hawks fans!" he said proudly) and eventually the conversation turned to - what else? - hockey.
One question I wanted him to give some thought to revolves around a story I'm working on that should run in January. The topic: If you were NHL Commissioner for a day, what would you change about the league?
So I asked and told him just to think about it so he'd be ready when I posed it to him down the road.
But Joel didn't blink.
He answered right away.
"I'd add four more teams to the playoffs."
"Wow. Really?"
"Yep. It would add so much more excitement to the end of the season."
"One game? A three-game series?"
"One of those. Not sure."
Joel's reasoning was that during much of the time he played, 16 of 21 teams qualified for the playoffs. That's 76 percent of the league, compared to the 52 percent that qualify now.
Imagine how exciting those games would be - and how hard teams in the fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth spots would be desperately trying to avoid the 7 through 10 seeds.
I told him Jonathan Toews' answer to the Commissioner for a Day story had to do with how to fix a brutal Hawks schedule. Quenneville - never one to moan about that subject with us during news conferences - was totally on board with his captain's ideas.
I can't remember the exact quote, but he definitely admitted the lack of long road trips last season took a toll on everyone.
At that point, my car was ready.
Tip in hand, I walked over to Joel, patted him once on his arm and said, "See you tomorrow."
As we know now, that never happened.
But it was nice to have this one final conversation with him while he was still coach of the Blackhawks.
Just two guys in a car wash talking family, restaurants and hockey.
So ordinary, as Joel says.
Yet at the same time, so utterly extraordinary.
• Twitter: @johndietzdh