The topic over at Jen's Spin Cycle this week is "Celebrity". I wish I had some fantastic story of fondling Simon Cowell's abs or telling George Clooney to fuck off, but I've come to believe that I possess an anti-celebrity aura.
I mean, I spent years living in Vancouver, "North Hollywood", during a time when they were constantly filming all kinds of exciting things like the X-Files and Jumanji. And the whole time I was working in theatre, no, living and breathing theatre, and
drinking associating with theatre and film type people. And not once - ever - did I meet someone that I could casually say, "Oh, I met so-and-so", and you'd know who the hell I was talking about.
One time, I elected to not attend an opening night party (probably for some really sensible reason like "It's all the way downtown and the beer here is cheap and plentiful") and I discovered later that David Duchovny had showed up at said party and hobnobbed.*
I think I died a little that day.
I mean, I did drink a lot in those days so it's entirely possible I met a celebrity and don't remember. (It's also entirely possible that my behaviour resulted in a memo to all the other celebrities, which is why I now possess this anti-celebrity aura).
The closest I got to a real life star was going on two dates with a guy that had a bit part in the X-Files, as a lab nerd that was in love with Scully. He got shot.
In the show, I mean. I didn't SHOOT him. He just wasn't that attractive.
Also, he was short.
So I guess the moral of the story is, it's true - celebrities ARE shorter and less attractive in person!
*I don't even know what 'hobnobbed' means, but it sounds kinky. Fuck, I could have had hot kinky sex with David Duchovny. I think I just died a little more.