One time I was sitting with a friend at Fred Segal’s eating a pizza. This uber-hot blonde bombshell bounces out of a pearl Escalade across the street – and I say to my friend, “Holy shit, look at this!” And then walks in, slow motion, from the distance, straight up to me and my friend – Pam Andersen (and Kid Rock).
Right then this guy – some random guy – walks directly up in front of them and blocks their progress and points at them and says “YOUR’RE Pam Andersen. YOUR’RE Kid Rock?” After an awkward pause, they look at each other, and very nicely reply “Yes”. And this guy does this horrific fan thing; something I don’t even want to talk about.
Suffice it to say: I don’t ever want to be that guy. Never!
I’ve seen Pam multiple times strolling her kid down “Montana Ave”. I’d like to think they are just our neighbors. (If you don’t know it, anonymity is perhaps your most valuable possession.)
One time I rolled up to my local tailor, and there were a bunch of paparazzi people with cameras outside (very common in my town). I walked in, got my clothes, did not even recognize X who was a VERY hot young small blonde girl, but when I exited ahead of them I took my car and blocked the paparazzi (2 cars) so that when X and her beau left, the paparazzi were PISSED because they could not chase them, and screaming at me. But I had to laugh and stepped out of my car fully willing to fight – full-on – whoever wanted some (actually just to protect my car hood from being beaten.)
Many other stories: David Lee Roth, Dustin Hoffman, Michael Keaton (a total fucking cock-lick), Julia Roberts (a completely sweet person), etc. etc. etc.
I met Ronald Regan. We talked USC football. I surprised him.