Greetings from LA
LA. It's all about celebrities, right? Well it's supposed to be.
But let me tell you, I have been in LA for two days, actively seeking out celebrities (who, if NW Magazine and Entertainment Tonight are to be believed, should be hanging around on every street corner, enormous Starbucks in hand), and what I have to share with you is, we'll, a little D-list, to say the least.
Day one, I met Denzel Washington.
Well, that may be overstating it. I sat next to a women in a hair salon who was telling me (ok, not me so much telling me as telling her hairdresser, but I was right there). Anyhow, this woman had been to a BBQ the day before and Denzel Washington had been there! Impressive, right?
Then, I had a cab driver who looked exactly like Jeff Golblum, and while I'm pretty sure it wasn't him, I'm going to keep it on the list.
Shopping in Santa Monica on day two, the promise of Reece Witherspoon loomed large. 'Celebrity moms like Reece Witherspoon are often spotted on trendy Montana Avenue' the guide book screamed; 'Reece Witherspoon is always wandering around here' the hairdresser said... But I was there. For two days, I was there. And Reece didn't show.
I mean, I know she just had a baby, and she's probably busy but c'mon.
It was time for drastic measures, so I booked my friends and I into The Ivy - the Beverley Hills restaurant featured in movies like The Bodyguard, and known as a paparazzi and celebrity hangout. There was sure to be some A-list action there.
As we pulled up, things looked promising. From the Bentley in front of us emerged a guy and girl who looked a lot like Kim and Kanye. Sadly, it was not Kim and Kanye. I dunno who they were. Just a couple of blinged-out nobodies, ruining my holiday.
As we sat down out our table... Jackpot!
Sitting at the table next to us was one of the wives from The Real Housewives of somewhere. I know, I know, it's pathetic. But it's all I had.
Where was Jennifer Aniston? Where was Matthew McConoughy? Where the hell was Tom Hanks?
Oh who was I kidding? I had LA pegged all wrong. I was never going to see a big name celebrity. They are all at some place I've never heard of, that I couldn't afford anyway, away from the prying eyes of schmucks like me.
Dejected, we headed back to collect our car. Waiting for the valet (it's not as fancy as it sounds, there are valets everywhere here) I was busy reading texts when my brother nudged me and said 'Isn't that dude a rapper?'
I look up, and oh-my-god it's Fifty Cent.
Fifty Cent! Standing next to me.
Just two folks, waiting for their cars (sure, mine was a Hertz rental and his was a brand new Ferrari, but I'm not getting bogged down in petty details).
So it's fine... stay home with the baby Reece, BBQ without me Denzel, I don't need either of you. I got my boy Fifty, yo.