Yes, dear reader, that slight lilt to my speech, the tendency to call anyone one minute older than I "ma'am," the hole in my heart where Chik-Fil-A used to reside, all are indications of my ten-year residency of Atlanta, GA (sans the one year spent in Paris, naturalment). You never would have guessed? Well, it's not like I go around dropping "y'alls" left and right or anything. So never fear.
I was reminiscing about some Atlanta Moments with an old friend recently, and as I haven't had any Hollywood Moments lately, hopefully these will fill in the void - and bring some Bible Belt readers in who don't get either Entourage or ME. And also folks who love strip clubs.
There are celebrities in Atlanta... generally of the r.e.m. sort, ocassionally of the Big T sort. In fact, I remember one time, Pete Buck nigh on killed me at Center Stage when some friends and I went to see Pixies.
So what happened was this: I was telling a very clever story (as I've been known to do on occasion) and waving my arms a bit to emphasize an hilarious point, when all of a sudden, I saw my two friends look up in fear... a shadow fell over them... in slow motion, they screamed "noooooooooooo...." I turned, terrified, just in time to avoid the brunt of the attack and be merely bumped on the shoulder (the same shoulder which hurts to this day!) by Mr. Buck, making a beeline for the bar, and clearly not seeing such a delicate creature as myself, what with him being about 8 feet tall and all.
The tables were turned however, when we saw Elvis Costello at the Fox Theatre some time later - in the rush to exit the auditorium, I totally stomped Bill Berry's foot (it was an accident, I SWEAR).
But mostly, I just saw those @%!$#@ Indigo Girls EVERYWHERE.
I used to work at the Plaza Theatre on Ponce. After I sort of didn't work there anymore (it was a bit of a free-wheeling operation), I got a call to fill in for Heidi. Now, Heidi is quite the woman, and she never asks for anything, but merely takes. However, on this occasion, SHE BEGGED. So, I didn't have anything to do, so I went over there to pick up a few extra bucks (this was during my graduate school years). Robert, the projectionist, who I found out later always wanted to fire me because he was convinced I was a narc (no kidding - as I said, a free-wheeling kind of place) smiled weird at me (weirder than normal) and said, "have fun". Um, ok...
So I did popcorn, with Mark (whom I used to date, but we broke up amicably, or so I thought, until someone told me he wasn't talking to me anymore, which somehow I didn't notice... such is the Magic of Ponce) on tickets. Every time I said "thank you" when somebody paid for their snacks, they would say, "No, thank YOU!" in this kind of weird way. This is about when I noticed that there were like, two guys in the whole place, including Mark. Just to be certain, I asked, "hey Mark... uh, what's playing tonight?" and he just laughed. DAMN YOU HEIDI! She totally set me up. On purpose, like. It was fun though - the most admiration I've ever gotten... and apparently it was a good Lesbian Film Festival to boot.
Until the next time, all signs point to yes... ON PONCE, y'all!