Monday, May 05, 2014

Champagne Problems

I am not above an actor crush. Not by a long shot. Not by a mile.

You know how it goes:

"Who is that? I'll look him up on IMDB. Oh, he was in that? That was good. I'll just re-watch that really quickly. ...Wow, how did I miss how attractive he was in that? I need to look at some pictures of his attractiveness so I can just affirm how attractive he is. There sure are a lot of pictures of this attractive person. Wait, what else has he been in? Oh, a BBC series?" 

[Ed. Note: Nearly all my crushes been on  BBC series.]

"...I guess I'll just watch that entire series now." 

By the way, that entire interlude usually takes about 30 minutes.

So no, I am not above an actor crush. It's just that sometimes I have the misfortune of actually meeting them.

In general, I have no problem going to a wedding on my own. Actually, I think other people tend to have more problems with it than I do. The last time I went to a wedding on my own, I'd gotten an idea I wanted to scribble down, so I took a pause from my reign on the dance floor to make a note on my iPhone, and in the 30 seconds I was typing, a very well intentioned man came up to make sure I was okay. You know. "Okay." 

Anyway, I was at this wedding alone. I was also seated across from an actor crush of mine. It follows that I also played a little fast and loose with the champagne. And while champagne does delightful things, to me and I believe, the public in general, I would not include the ability to calm down a nervous girl as one of its more salubrious effects. Certainly not after the very small amount I had partaken in (partooken of) of yet another ratatouille rather heavy on the eggplant, a vegetable I have no fondness for whatsoever. It's slimy. 

I was sauced, is what I'm saying. 

Sauced and seated across from someone whose life I knew way too much about. The fact that I had also figured out that he was not the least bit interested in girls did not change the matter. So much so that I said what I believe is to date, the dumbest thing I have ever said. Truly. 

I had just been served the stack of eggplant and trying to drown out the voice in the back of my head that was begging me to drink some water, for god's sake, when He sat down at the table. He'd also been served, and right next to his plate he propped up a small photo of himself. I looked at the photo. I looked at the food. 

Now, in hindsight, I sort of marvel at how hard my brain worked in that split second to make up this whole little story that results in what I'm about to say to Him. It's pretty impressive. Insane, but impressive.

"That's so smart," I say, pointing to the photo. 

"I'm sorry?" he asks, putting his napkin in his lap. 

"It's so smart to bring a photo," I explain and reach for, Jesus Mary and Joseph, more champagne. 

"Bring a photo?" God help me, this is probably when he realized I was headed for that iceberg dead ahead. 

"Yes, to bring a photo. To put by your food. So the servers know which plate is yours. Because of your food allergies." 

See what I did there? I made a little story. 

Surely, the only reasonable reason someone would have a picture of themselves by their plate must because they have dietary restrictions and obviously the best way to ensure they're not served peanuts or fish oil or carbohydrates is clearly to bring a black and white photo of yourself from home and put it by your plate at this wedding

Even when you're a famous person with a famous face that mostly everyone would recognize

"Uh... There's a photo booth. Over there." 

Or that. 

Right about then is when I turned into a raven and flew to the park where I made my nest out of wisps of trash and brittle sticks and lived only on eggplant and worms that surfaced in the rain. After many years all my feathers fell out and I became a hairless cat who was adopted by a mean family of enormous wealth who left me with nothing but a subscription to the Economist and a glass bottle of whole milk when they moved to St. Tropez and I still live in the empty attic of their New Amsterdam townhouse, winding broken clocks and thinking about that time I met that actor. 

And getting new crushes.