As I continue slaving, er, serving, I encounter more celebrities...

Yes. Still serving. Sucks.

But, at my said place of employment, I had 2 sightings at the same time, and my first paparazzi encounter.

Dave Grohl was within 2 feet of me. Dave. Fucking. Grohl. He was there with a really cute kid and a pregnant woman (assuming his wife & kid. I don't get too involved in these nice people's love lives. not my business. I wish them well, though.) There were about 10 people at the table, and all the plebs like you & me started behaving like utter douches. Some people staring with their friends snapping at them not to stare, then others pretending they were above it. No one harassed Dave, though, which is good. I always think you should not interrupt people at dinner, even if they are your hero. Heroes need to eat, too, dammit! but EVERYONE hated the paparazzo who showed up.

Some dude popped up, yanked a camera out of his coat, and snapped a couple of shots before bailing to the other side of the dining room to annoy Cedric the Entertainer, who had also come in for some Chinese food. It was highly surreal. What a douche. I find a way to make a living without being scum, so why can't he?

Dave paid - with the Foo Fighters black Amex. (for those not in the know, the black AmEx requires a minimum spending of $100k/a year. Just on that card. You are a big balla if you have that card. It is made of titanium, and is SO choice.) I never thought I'd see a credit card that listed the cardholder as "Foo Fighters". Fucking weird.

The next table over was mine, and was a birthday party for a girl turning 15. I had to explain to her that the guy everyone was trying not to stare at would not have been able to set foot in the restaurant when she was born because he was so famous. I also realized that the 15th anniversary of Kurt Cobain's suicide is in a couple of months. I remember it really well because it happened when I was on my spring break during senior year in 1994. It was the only time I went anywhere for spring break with friends. Mental math, and the fact that there was a 15 year old in front of me who had been 6 weeks old at the time drove home how long ago that was. It seems like just last week or something. Not so very long ago.

I felt really old for a minute. A quick Google reveals that Dave just turned 40. I then realized that the best part of Dave's life is probably right now: not too obnoxiously famous a la Brad Pitt, but still rich and able to enjoy a relatively quiet night out. Probably gets to spend time with his kid(s), too.

I want to be just like Dave when I grow up. If in 7 years (when I'm 40) I am half so fulfilled, I will be pleased with myself indeed.

*****
That is all for my Los Angeles adventures this week. Tune in next time for more, or check my other blog, A Southerner's Guide to (surviving) Los Angeles.