Wednesday, June 27, 2012

An Open Letter To Tim Curry (Or Why I Never Approach Celebrities)

Dear Tim Curry,

Hi. I'm sitting to your right, trying not to freak out. Don't worry, I'm not going to bother you. I smiled at you when I walked in and that will be the extent of it. (Thanks for smiling back, by the way.)

It's a weird thing, Tim Curry, to be sitting next to you right now. We're both getting pedicures! You're talking softly in your British accent to the nail ladies! I'm trying really hard not to sing "Sweet Transvestite!"

The reason it's weird, Tim Curry, (Can I call you Tim Curry?) is that it just is. When you're growing up as a theatre nerd, in, say, West Texas, you dream about the day you'll move to New York or Los Angeles and come in contact with your favorite actors. You think about what you'll say to them. When I was a teenager, I would have emphatically stated that if I were ever in the same room with you, I would tell you how many times I've watched Annie and Rocky Horror Picture Show. (Zillions, Tim Curry.  Zillions!) I would have imagined myself asking you for a picture and shaking your hand as I told you how much you've inspired me over the years. You would blush, of course, and thank me profusely. Teenage me would've expected it to go down that way.

At this point, I've lived in L.A. for almost fifteen years. Pretty early on it became clear to me that celebrities really are just regular people with cool jobs. They don't want to be approached in the luggage section of Macy's or the line at Coffee Bean. They just want to get their rolly-bag or non-fat latte and get the fuck out. And, who can blame them? I've seen some awkward encounters go down and it's never ever worth it. Like the girl who ran into the salon today? She asked if you were Tim Curry. You said, "Yes." Then she said, "Oh!  Cool, hiiii!" and ran away. What was the purpose of that exactly? (Except to make me giggle behind my magazine.)

This is why I've adopted a 'speak when spoken to' rule when dealing with famous people. Sometimes I end up talking to them but I never approach them and I never ever ask for a photo.  I think it's served me well. I mean, I'm a shy-ish person anyway so I would be super uncomfortable asking you to lean over in your spa chair and get a photo with me. (Although, I would straight-up frame that shit and hang it over my bed, Tim Curry.) I think it's the right way to handle the situation.  I know it's how I would want people to act around me if I were famous. Sidenote: One time you jaywalked in front of my car in Studio City and I almost ran into you.  It was one of the scariest things that's ever happened to me. I could picture the headline:  Bitch Runs Down Sweet Transvestite On Ventura. Stop jaywalking, Tim Curry!

However, if I had talked to you today, I would have said something ridiculous like "Frank N. Furter was one of my earliest crushes and it made me feel WEIRD, MAN, WEIRD!" Or, something inane like, "You always choose the bravest roles, thanks for being so awesome." Or, it might have dissolved into, "You're so great!  Really awesome! I love you!  DOYOUWANTOHUGREALLYHARDRIGHTNOW?!!!"

So. In closing, I want you to know that just because I didn't say anything to you today doesn't mean you haven't been one of my favorite actors my whole life long. It is precisely because I dig you so much that I didn't interrupt your chill time to ask how tall Bernadette Peters actually is or if you got to go to Drew Barrymore's wedding or if you still have that bustier.

Cheers,

Kendra

*photo by partymonstrrrr.