We were meeting friends at Six Flags after a Rangers baseball game and a stunningly beautiful woman caught my eye as she was orchestrating a group of little kids on a horse carousel. She was a knock-out and I suddenly realized it was Janine Turner. She looked so much better (she was “all that” and more) than they ever let her be on Northern Exposure and she was gracious and kind to the attendants on the ride as well. I’ve no idea who Mr. Janine Turner is other than one very lucky guy.
The other bald guy.
This story is kind of embarassing, but I was only 19 years old at the time and very inexperienced with “famous people”.
One of my then-favourite bands came to town and I managed to sit in on an interview with them for a small local magazine. Then my then-boyfriend, his buddy and I went to the concert that night. After the show the guitarist invited us to hang out with them - cue me trying so hard not to straight-up fangirl - so we went to their hotel room. These were rock stars, we were totally expecting a big ole party. Turned out we just kind of sat around awkwardly chatting. They were worried about making enough money for the gig because there wasn’t a big turnout. I’m embarassed to say we overstayed our welcome, because I didn’t know how to politely excuse ourselves. (I was a socially awkward teenager.)
Our buddy commented afterward how eye-opening it was to see that these rock stars were just “regular people” who were worried about getting paid.
(It was National Velvet, if any Canadians recognize that name.)
Big Bat’s?
What’s a ‘Big Bat’?
I’ve met a few, and most were pretty cool. Long ago, however, Carol Kane (barely a “celebrity”, actually) came into this place I was working and was pushing some kind of event for charity or something and just kept pushing. No one was interested, and she just *would not go away! * She’s asking a bunch of poor working stiffs to support some Hollywood bullshit. Eventually, we all just kept working and ignored her and she finally slinked out a side door.
And there was the time The Girl from Different Strokes tried to get me to pay her for sex.
I had dinner with the Red Hot Chili Peppers once, but it was well before they were famous. Met them through a friend.
They were nice enough, but not so nice or so obnoxious I could spin a funny story out of it. Just guys, really.
You don’t mean the famous Jon-Erik Hexum, one of the only people to manage to kill himself with a gun loaded with blanks?