Monday, October 12, 2009

Do celebrities wish they could blink us mortals away like Tabitha could?

Recommended wine for today’s entry: Because we’re talking about celebrity encounters today, I recommend trying a glass of Beringer Montagia Cabernet Sauvignon – produced on land owned by, and with the assistance of, celebrities/winemakers Joe and Jennifer Montana. An online description found on snooth.com says of the 2001: “exhibits a dark ruby/purple color in addition to a big, sweet nose of pain grille, espresso roast, chocolate, and cassis.” Looks like the last 5 years, it’s received a steady review of “really like it.”

Very exciting news this weekend from the Prospect, Kentucky Kroger: My friend Penny SAW and SPOKE WITH Nick Lachey.

Yes, I’m serious. It has to be true because I read it on Facebook and if you don’t know, Facebook has picked up all the readers who once used to buy the daily newspapers. Thus, I know it’s true. And Penny is a solid source.

How cool is that? At Kroger?? And to think, we needed bread – I was actually on the fence at about 4:30, just the time of the sighting – debating whether or not I should get bread or blow it off for one more day or week and see if everyone survived.

If I weren’t so lazy, we could have had bread and I might have lured Nick Lachey away from whatever young hottie he’s hanging with lately. OK, well at least I might have made the tabloids when I broke into a flat-out run the length of Aisle 7 and jumped up on him and wrapped my arms and legs around him, all while dangling a loaf of Bunny bread behind his broad shoulders.

Even if I got arrested, I think Bunny bread would offer me an endorsement contract because you have to be ingesting a LOT of vitamin-enriched white bread to run the length of Aisle 7 at age 48 and 11.75/12ths. And then to leave one’s feet? That’s what I’m talkin’ about. See, I can use hip jargon, too…

But none of that happened, because in the end I convinced the family that bread-less sandwiches were all the rage in New York and they could lick the excess mustard off their fingers when they were done. So I missed the whole thing.

I have had a couple of very exciting celebrity run-ins myself, though.

This is not to be confused with my husband, who claims to see Carrot Top like six times a month on the streets of downtown Louisville. Every soul with frizzy red hair is Carrot Top. Mine are real sightings, not delusional efforts to pump up one’s daily excitement level.

For example, at a Derby event a few … OK, a bunch of … years ago, I saw Melissa Joan Hart. Yes, that’s right, Clarice, who used to explain it all to my kids. But on that night, it was ME explaining important life lessons to Melissa, who is not only really cute, but very nice and personable, too.

It was late. I know that because my husband will usually go up to the bar and get my first few glasses of wine at an event like this, but toward the end of the evening, he usually figures that if someone has to cut me off, it should be a paid professional and not the person who has to listen to me rant the whole way home.

So here’s how I made a young (she was probably 22) celebrity into a lovely lady like myself:

Melissa (to bartender): I’d like a glass of red wine, please.

Me: I don’t recommend that.

Melissa (looking around): Are you talking to me?

Me: Yes. You don’t have to listen to me, but I can’t help but notice that you have on a very pretty pink dress. Never drink red wine in a pink dress after eleven o’clock. That’s spill time.

Melissa (taking the proffered glass of red wine): Spill time?

Me: Yes, even if you don’t spill it on yourself, some pathetic mom who hasn’t been out of the house in a month, except to go to the grocery and the pediatrician, and who has spent the whole week walking a baby around to make it stop crying; well, she will have had a wee bit too much to drink, what with it being Derby and there’s no one who might fall off the changing table …

Melissa: Oh, and that mom might run into me and make me spill the red wine?

Me (pulled from my reverie): Ohmygod! You were still listening to me?

Melissa: Yeah. (Hands red wine back to the bartender) May I have a glass of WHITE wine please?

Me: And how about one for her new BFF?

Later, she showed me a wet place on her dress, where she’d spilled a little wine while dancing. I was triumphant!!

Of course, the next morning at the track I saw her wearing a pretty white suit and drinking a Bloody Mary. But the eleven o’clock rule wasn’t in effect then, so I let it slide.

Also, she looked like she’d never seen me before in her life.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you about my TWO encounters with the Backstreet Boys. I know, I’m a badass.

But if I’m honest with myself, I have to admit that Penny was still WAY cooler. She talked football with Nick. Smooth.

And I bet he didn’t even roll his eyes when she walked away.

Nick — next time you’re going to Kroger, let me know! I PROMISE I won’t come charging at you down Aisle 7! Really.

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