GAH. (A Sort-Of Guest Post)

A word of introduction: I begged J to write a guest post about the story I’m about to tell, since…well, I wasn’t there, and he was. But he was all, “hell to the NO.” And so, I’m putting myself in his shoes to share with you the event he just experienced yesterday. Just pretend he wrote it, m’kay?

Why I Should Listen To My Wife Next Time-- by J.

As I was packing for my business trip to Las Vegas this past Sunday night, my lovely wife Metalia was doing all manner of no doubt vitally important tasks on her laptop. Do I care that she wasn’t cleaning off her Clothing-Covered Chair of Doom instead? NO. For I am breezy, and that eyesore in the corner of our bedroom doesn’t bother me in the least. Ever. Like I said, breezy.

She looked up from her computer and suggested that I bring a camera with me to Vegas. “What about for when you see someone famous?” she said. It should be noted that her point of when (and not IF) I’d see a celebrity was well-taken. Within the past year, I’ve repeatedly texted my darling wife (who does NOT own nearly enough jeans, by the way…or shoes.) to tell her I’ve spotted Oprah/Amy Poehler/Seth Meyers/an exceedingly cracked-out Whitney Houston near my office. Her response is always the same: “Get a damn cameraphone already!”

But still, I demurred, pointing out that I’d be busy with work stuff most of the time I was there, and didn’t see the point. Off I went on my trip.

Oh, and apropos of nothing, can I tell you all how much my wife loves the show Gossip Girl? I’m sure she must have mentioned it on here one time or twelve. At one point, I teased her (lovingly, of course), telling her that I’d heard through the grapevine that it had been canceled. There may have been tears. (Not really, but she was quite relieved when she found out I was kidding.) The joke, however, is on me, because I’ve started watching it with her. I blame that entirely on the writers' strike, however, and the fact that there’s nothing else on.

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon, I was sitting on a bench outside a hotel in Vegas with my friend K, who was there for the same convention that I was.

*****IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER! IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER! While in Vegas, I learned that an adult movie awards show/convention descended upon the town yesterday. That is NOT the convention either of us were there for.*****

Anyway, K and I were waiting for some pizza we had ordered to arrive; K got up to get a drink, and a tall, beautiful girl with long blond hair and a scruffily bearded boyfriend came over and sat down on the bench next to me. The girl and her boyfriend turned towards me and smiled.

Holy shit. It was Serena van der Woodsen! I mean...that girl from Gossip Girl! And her real-life boyfriend was her TV boyfriend Dan Humphrey! (I know they have real names, which I learned for the first time yesterday, but since everyone knows them as Dan and Serena, let’s just go with that.) At that point, Metalia’s voice suggesting that I bring a camera reverberated in my ears. And I knew she was going to KILL me when I told her this story.

Serena pulled a small dog out of her bag and began playing with it. Both she and Dan were friendly, talkative and down-to-earth, so I didn't feel too weird about telling them my wife loved their show. They were very gracious, and told me how they’d driven down from LA since they had nothing to do, on account of the writers’ strike. K returned with his drink, and we all started talking. Our pizza guy arrived, and Dan commented on how good our food looked, so K and I offered to share it with them. They refused at first, but ultimately joined in, chowing down on the pizza, and chatting with us all the while.

Now, let’s review. My wife loves this show. I am literally sharing my lunch with two of the stars...AND I DON’T HAVE A CAMERA.

Oh, and because irony is funny: The thing I was in Vegas for? It was a consumer electronics convention. Where there were cameras, cameras everywhere.

I ruefully mentioned to my new best friends how my wife was going to kill me for not bringing a camera, and I said I had to at least call her and tell her who I was eating lunch with. Serena laughed, and offered to get on the phone and say hi. (I told you they were nice.) Meanwhile, 2,570 miles away, my wife (whose phone has a camera in it, like A NORMAL PERSON’S) was on the train and missed her chance to chat with Serena. Oh, cruel fate! Why do you mock me? Uh-- I mean, her?

They thanked us profusely for lunch and left, waving goodbye and smiling. Whereupon I called Metalia, and OF COURSE she picked up the phone this time.

Needless to say, while she thought the story was awesome, she was bewildered that neither K nor I made any real attempt to get a picture with Dan and Serena. Her exact words were, “I don’t care that your Blackberry doesn’t have a camera; you should’ve used K’s cameraphone. Or gotten a disposable one! Or posed for one of those street caricaturists--I don’t know, something!"

Alas, it was too late. But if you know my wife at all, you would know that this (along with a spotless Clothing Chair of Doom, my favorite, hard-to-find snack, and icy cold Diet Orange Sunkist) was waiting for me when I came home:

Serena+ Dan+J + K=Best Friends 4-Eva