Here's what I love about living in L.A.
My husband and I, unlike the normal masses of America sitting down to watch the Superbowl this afternoon, decided to go out for a Sunday drive.
It's 81 degrees here today, slight breeze, wispy clouds throughout the sky, sun shining. You couldn't order a prettier day.
As we were driving down Ventura Blvd. through Encino into Sherman Oaks, we happened upon a crazy little open-air "steamer" car, blowing lot's of stinky steam out the back as it toddled along Ventura Blvd.
From the back, we could see the man's tossled gray hair and his outfit consisting of blue jeans and a work shirt.
My husband turns to me and very confidently says, "That's Jay Leno, you know!"
Well, being the dutiful, submissive, always agreeing wife that I am...I of course, gently state back, "The hell it is. How would you know that anyway?"
My husband lovingly says back to me, "I know he has that car, because I read". (As if to say to me, "something you might like to try").
However, I continue to press on..."Yeah, but how do you really know that's Jay Leno? It can't be Jay Leno. Why on earth would Jay Leno be driving down Ventura Blvd. on Superbowl Sunday, all by himself, where everyone will recognize him? Why wouldn't he with his wife on his day off?"
It just didn't make sense.
So, I told my husband to drive up along side him, so we could get a look at who was really driving this stinky little car.
Sure enough, it was Jay Leno. Sweatin', and crankin' and working like a dog to drive that stinky little car. This man makes millions. Where was his limo? More importantly, where was his wife?
Well, now I was on a mission. I was going to get Jay to say hello to me.
And why not? If he was out there, all alone, in full view...then I figured he was fair game.
He was going so slowly down the street, that we couldn't help but get way ahead of him as we were making our way down Ventura Blvd.
So we decided to pull over (and of course get a Starbucks) and wait for him to drive by. While I stood on the street waiting for Jay Leno, my husband waited inside Starbucks, clandestinely plotting to clear the place out by yelling "There goes Jay Leno", and thereby moving to the head of the line. But he managed to contain himself.
I, on the other hand, could not (contain myself, that is)...I stood on the sidewalk...patiently waiting for Jay to make his way down the street. It took a few minutes, but there he was!!! I gave Jay a great big sexy smile (okay, it was a stupid, goofy smile, but, hey, this is my story to tell any way I please, isn't it?).
Lo and behold, I caught his eye (must have been the sexy smile)...and he smiled back and flashed me (no, don't go there) a peace sign.
So, just remember...While the rest of you were gorging yourselves on hot dogs, chips, and beer, I was having a brush with fame.
And, I know just what Jay was thinking. "What's that gal with the incredibly sexy smile doin' all alone on a Sunday afternoon?"
Translation: Geez, how desperate can that broad be, standing on Ventura Blvd. all alone on a Sunday afternoon, with nothing better to do than wave down a huge celebrity like me.