Who Asked for a Journalist?
He was charming, handsome, funny, and not that stupid after all--everything I had expected him to be.
It was my job. I worked for a paper and had to write a few lines about "Peter Cincotti":http://www.petercincotti.com/'s gig in Switzerland. People think that because it is your job you are going to be less impressed. They could not be more wrong.
I actually chose him because I am a fan. The pressure was huge: meeting him and trying to shut down that voice inside my head saying, " Oh, God, I am _talking_ to him!"
We had planned the meeting (nice job it is!). We met in that gorgeous hotel, facing a lake; it was just great! So we talked...and my biggest fear came true: I got myself ridiculous! I guess you cannot change who you really are. I usually like that about me, being all spontaneous and speaking my mind, but on that one I should have been careful.
I gave him wine (that's also part of who I am--French, by the way) and talked about philosophy and tattoos, about _Ugly Betty_ and equality between men and women. I ended up telling him he had no brain! (How ridiculous is that?) As for him, he played the game and admitted that his brain was not his best asset and understood that it was all ironical. I hope so, anyway.
In the end, the gig was great and I did not even mention our conversation in my article. I do not meet famous people that often (let alone people I really like). The job is not _that_ nice! However, I will definitely remember that day: He was charming, handsome, funny, and not that stupid after all--everything I had expected him to be.
But do not misunderstand me on that one. It seems like it was a perfect meeting, and somehow it was, but I did not end up being his friend. It stayed professional (how professional is it to call somebody stupid?), though I wish it did not!