Jennifer Aniston Is Doing Great

As if in slow motion, the blonde leaned in toward Lisa and they reached out and held each other’s forearms for what seemed like 10 long seconds.

The pressure is always on when members of my _famiglia_ come to town. They want Mr. Fancypants to show them a good time, because they think I live a totally charmed life as an underpaid freelance writer. For a good vibe and great food, I like to take them to Babbo down on Waverly, with hopes that celebrity chef and owner Mario Batali will walk by in his orange clogs and give them a wink.

One night a few weeks ago, my mom and sister Lisa had just come from a wine tasting and were most definitely a little buzzed and very, very hungry. While we waited for a table in the crowded bar area, the restaurant’s manager (an old pal of mine) walked over with a bottle of Barolo, three glasses, and a plate holding three slabs of bruschetta adorned with melting slices of _lardo_. “A little something on the house,” he said with a smile, knowing exactly why I was there. I was feeling good. Mom was beaming. And so we huddled in the corner and wolfed down creamy cured pork fat with copious sips of the delicious wine, hardly saying a word.

And then it happened.

I glanced up at Lisa, who was staring over my shoulder toward the dining room, eyes wide and smiling. But before I could turn around, a sheath of perfectly straight, Pantene-shiny blonde hair was passing me and I heard Lisa gasp. Then, as if in slow motion, the blonde leaned in toward Lisa and they reached out and held each other’s forearms for what seemed like 10 long seconds.

Lisa said, “How are you?” with such deep feeling, I figured this was an old friend she hadn’t seen in years.

The blonde said, “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

And with that she walked out, followed by her entourage of three hot bodies, not one of whose lovely faces I ever beheld.

When I asked her who that was, she blushed and said, “Jennifer Aniston…it…was…Jennifer Aniston!” After a gulp of Barolo, Lisa explained she had caught sight of the world’s most famous blonde walking toward her, but that Aniston gave her a serious look that said, "Please don’t make a scene." They locked eyes and then “she smiled and she walked toward me,” said Lisa, explaining how she felt so bad for the star, given the whole Angelina Jolie thing, that she just had to say something.

“That was unbelievable,” said Mom.

“I can’t believe I just hugged Jennifer Aniston,” said Lisa.

Technically, it was a forearm grip. Yet undoubtedly, that night’s mission was accomplished.


Courtney says,

This totally made me tear up.

Silas_Butterworth says,

Aniston is blonde?

Heather_Crump says,

My mother and father came up from Florida to meet my husband Don and I in New York City. The trip from California was uneventful and the hotel was cramped and small. We had a full agenda of places we wanted to eat at and things we wanted to do. It seems NY City never sleeps. Don had gone out the night before at 1 A.M. to eat and listen to Jazz at the Village Vanguard. The City was popping with Soccer fans who were celebrating Brazil's victory that day in World Cup Soccer.

So what to do with parents in New York? We decided to take in a Broadway Show. We get in line at Times Square and score some half price matinee tickets for that afternoon. The Show was a bust and we came out early and hungry for a cup of coffee or a piece of cake. We found a Coffee Shoppe near the theater, and gave our order at the counter. Found a place to sit and were having a typical debriefing of the play we had just seen, when this gorgeous red-head walks in dressed in a Tee shirt and overalls, with her boyfriend in tow. They sit at the next table and order something and are nuzzling each other.

Don leans over and says "that's Julianne Moore!! We had just seen her in Robert Altman's movie Short Cuts." "No way", I say, "if anything she looks more like the woman who waits tables at our favorite Breakfast place in Berkeley"

Don insists it is Julianne Moore and so to put this argument to rest I bet him $5 that he is wrong.

So I get up and sashay over to their table and say:
"Excuse me for interrupting, but my husband Don over there thinks you are Julianne Moore, recently in the movie Short Cuts! I thought you looked more like a woman we know who waits on us at our favorite breakfast place in Berkeley, CA! You are probably neither, but we have a $5 bet and I need to clear this up."
Well, she gets up slowly and leans in and gives me a full body hug and says:
" Sweetie you owe your husband $5, I am Julianne Moore, and this is my boyfriend Gerehardt (or some other German name). We are taking a break from rehersals of the play "Vanya from 42nd Street", just around the corner."
I apologize profusely for intruding on them, and Gerhardt says:
"She could very well be your waitress from Berkeley, they way she travels around!" And he gives me a hug too. So I go back to the table and try to talk Don out of his $5, as my parents are laughing their heads off. Only in New York City could this happen! And before Rudy Guliani too.

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