One week ago today, I had completed a series of tasks. I got a haircut. I had gone tanning. Twice. And I had gotten my pants dry cleaned. All these tasks needed to be completed by one week ago today.
Why, you may ask? Well, I’ll tell you. Because when you go to a red carpet movie premiere where Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt will be most definitely making an appearance, then you really don’t have a choice, do you? Exactly.
So after work my co-workers, Jill and Courtney, and I met up with the Blessed Angels who sang sweet songs of joy to us. AKA emailed us and said ‘Hey! Want to go to a movie?’.
Nothing really fascinating happened as we walked into the theatre. We looked for the stars, but the closest one any of us saw to even being remotely famous was that man who always touches the croissants in the hole before putting them back down, having decided that this particular croissant did not meet his standards.
We happened to be sitting in the front row of the media section, meaning we were at the halfway mark in the theatre, seated a few steps above everyone else. If you were to walk by the three of us, I think an appropriate reaction would be ‘My goodness, you’ve done a lot of cocaine’. Celebrity hunting is a very time consuming, energy sucking experience, as you don’t know where those wily bastards will pop out from behind next.
It was about 10 minutes after we sat down that we saw the wiliest bastard of them all. Standing right in front of us was King TV himself, Regis Philbin. Just standing there. Talking. To some woman. Just like a real person would.
The woman turned around to say hi to a passerby, and there was celebrity sighting number 2. Marlo Thomas. I think. I’m pretty sure it was That Girl, but I could be mistaken. Either way, they were right in front of us, breathing the air we exhaled. Which can only mean that Regis, Marlo and I are forever connected.
From that point onward, we saw so many celebrities, we had to beat them down with a machete just to see the other ones. Martha Stewart was there, wearing a black suit and looking not nearly her age. Geraldo Rivera, accompanied by his moustache, came and sat several rows in front of us. Annie Leibowitz, who bears a striking resemblance to Jane Goodall, was seated no more than 4 rows away.
Then the floor began to rumble, and the roof tore off the building as the heavens opened up and a chorus of cherubs flew down, sprinkling rose petals and playing their harps. The doors near the screen opened up, and a dazzling light flooded the room.
Angie and Brad arrived.
On TV and in the magazines, they are both beautiful. But in person, their beauty pretty much transcends description. All I know is that after seeing them in their glory, I don’t see colors properly any more.
The movie itself was spectacular. A Mighty Heart comes out this Friday, and I suggest you all go see it.
After the film, we quickly got out of our seats to claim ground in the lobby, so as to see everyone we missed. The only one we saw that was of note was Jeremy Piven, which ended up just making us feel sad because he is so short and very much alone and was oozing a kind of ‘I know some pretty lady wants to talk to me…right?…pretty ladies?…’ kind of vibe.
It was at this point that we decided to head back downstairs and make our way to the after party. However, in true John fashion, an exit can never be just an exit. Nor can a moment in my life be anything but abnormal and over the top.
All it took, in this case, was for Jill to say ‘Isn’t he famous? The guy going down the stairs?’, and I was off, running down the escalator to meet up with him at the first floor. I may or may not have shoved people aside in my flurry to view someone who quite possibly is nothing more than the man who told us no, we can’t walk the red carpet because we’re not famous, so please stop trying to lie and pretend you are.
Thankfully, this turned out not to be the case, as Ryan Reynolds walked by us and outside.
So yeah. At this point, we’ve pretty much seen more celebrities than ever before in our lives combined. And it was now time to go to the after party.
But that, Internet, is another post…