LOS ANGELES – "Hey," I said, yanking on the back of my friend Stephen's
shirt and pointing to a woman standing at the bar. "That's Sarah
Silverman!"
Jessica Burgess
Clearly Unedited
He took a look and shook his head. "Nope," he said. "Not her." He
swigged his beer. "I accidentally elbowed Sarah Silverman in the boob
the other day," he said, "so I know exactly what she looks like."
I scrutinized the woman at the bar, then shrugged. Who cares if she's
comedian Sarah Silverman or not? I'd just find another celebrity – a
better celebrity. Sitcom actors and comics are as common as dog poo these
days!
That's just how it is, here in Los Angeles.
How'd a Texan with self-esteem issues and asthma end up vacationing in
the faraway land of anorexia and smog? Well, this guy with whom I have a
joint credit card decided he wanted us to visit friends in California.
"Fine," I said, unaware that what awaited me on the left coast was a
yellow sky filled with poison, a surprising dearth of Starbucks, and
more celebrities than I could shake a stick at. Not that I would
literally shake a stick at them. Their bodyguards would probably tackle
me and I would end up a grainy figure in a video on Access Hollywood.
Our very first night in L.A., we went to see Stephen, an old college
friend, in a play. It was an artsy play, the kind that takes place in a
dark little room and only four people are in the audience but that is OK
because it is art.
I examined the playbill and my eyes widened. I leaned over to my
boyfriend and whispered, "I think Jan Brady is in this play."
Sure enough, the show started and Eve Plumb jumped out. She was wearing
an evening gown and dancing. So was the rest of the cast. Including
Stephen, who is ostensibly male.
As it turned out, that was just the tip of the famous-person iceberg. We
also had encounters with Andrea from Beverly Hills 90210, that
guy from Yes, Dear (which I have not personally ever watched, but
I still made a little tick-mark in my celebrity scorebook), and Jim
Norton (a comedian who used to be on Tough Crowd).
Also, we went to Second City and watched some improv comedy on a couple
of nights, and a curly headed kid who performed there is now haunting me
through T-Mobile commercials. Watch for him. He's got a big mess of hair
and usually plays the hapless teenage son who does something wacky like
wear a dress.
Sort of like my ostensibly male friend Stephen.
Maybe it's an L.A. thing.
Jessica still totally thinks that was Sarah Silverman. Support her at
jburgess@quickdfw.com.
