Well, what an unexpectedly nice evening I've had.
I went to my block association's wine and cheese party, purely because it was free and promised nice food...which promise it abundantly made good on. Lovely cheese and stunning fruit and guacamole, and little crostini and lots of neat good things to eat. Other than that, rather dull...lots of nice men my own age, all of whom were gay. Sigh.
So I started off home, and decided that I actually needed a beer, and wandered into Frankie's...and had nice long lovely chats with various people...and just as I was on the point of leaving (i.e., having just one more before I left), Richard the bartender bought me back, meaning of course I had to have another beer...yes, well. Bar manners. Unless the buy back will actually cause you to pass out cold or vomit all over the beer nuts, you gotta buy one more after the buy back. Them's the rules.
And I am evidently the absolutely worst when it comes to celebrities...i.e., being thrilled about them, or paying a whole lot of attention to them, and like that there. I suppose it comes out of working with such huge stars in my apprenticeship years...I just got to see stars as human beings, and therefore am not starstruck. Face it, if you are confronted with Zero Mostel wearing not one stitch except his (commodious) underpants...it's kind of hard to see a lot of glamour in the whole thing.
I bring this up because on Sunday morning I trotted off to the deli to get the Sunday papers and a yogurt drink (I've become addicted to them), tastefully attired in not one single stitch except my usual two year old cheapo muumuu and a pair of KMart canvas shoes...and ran smack dab into all 98 feet of Hugh Jackman. With wife and daughter.
Well, I am here to tell you...that man is TALL. Also, he's fucking GORGEOUS. With a three day beard, a pair of baggy old cargo shorts, and a t-shirt. All 14 feet of him. And a grin that won't stop.
Oh, I was so good. I bought my papers and my (always necessary in the morning) diet Coke and my peach yogurt smoothie and my cat food...
And went home and thought...hey, cool, Hugh Jackman is shopping at our deli.
And then I sort of forgot about the whole thing.
You know, I don't think I'm cut out to be a star fucker.