Celebrity sightings

I just saw Troy from The Apprentice in front of the building where I work.

I get pretty excited when I see celebrities. I mean, I don't go up and talk to them, or ask for autographs or anything, but I'll definitely gape a little. Depending on the celebrity, of course. Lenny Kravitz, Christopher Meloni and the one-two punch of Drew Barrymore and Tom Green way-back-when were definitely gape-worthy. Moby? Not so much. [To Moby: I saw you skateboarding around the neighborhood the other day and you need to quit it. You're not 14.]

I'm not quite sure how to deal with the reality TV folks. I mean, they're not talented singers or actors. They're not generally people I'd like to sleep with. I don't get terribly excited, but at the same time, I wonder about them, about what their post-reality-TV are like. I look for signs of emotional distress. The despair that life after isn't any different than life before. Or is it? I don't know, and I want to.

Troy was without visible emotional distress. He had a suitcase, and a little blond (his wife is tall and brunette, but I'm not one to start rumors) with him. He had a suitcase and appeared to be either coming from or going to somewhere important. And he was very, very tan.

I think Andy Warhol was right about the 15 minutes. I hope mine has nothing to do with reality TV. And that modeling prom dresses at the age of 23 at the TV news station I used to work at, for a prom package, wasn't what the Gods of Celebrity had in mind.