There comes a time in your life when everyone is faced with a Kobayashi Maru scenario (digital high five to all my nerds out there) or what some might call “the no win scenario.” You know what I am talking about: like when you go to Panda Express and you see there isn’t quite enough Orange Chicken under the heat lamps to fill your plate, so if you choose it you know it will be tasty, but you also know you won’t be full. OK, that’s a bad example, because I am never full after Chinese food. Of course, Panda Express isn’t really Chinese food, now is it? Where was I going with this? Anyway, you are often faced with situations where you have to make a split second decision between two equally bad or good choices, and if you pick one direction you will surely not get the other choice. This happens in celebrity touching all the time, particularly if there are multiple targets in the vicinity. (Did any of what I just wrote make sense?)
Recently, I was faced with one of these situations. Two celebrity touch targets of equal value heading in opposite directions. Which to choose? I was at an event in Hollywood, which is a small ghetto west of Pasadena. Now, this event was filled with a gaggle of “B” and “C” level celebrities. And what I love about the “B’s” and “C’s” is that they haven’t perfected their avoidance maneuvers very well, so touching them is like taking razor blades from a baby. For example, the entire cast of “Glee” walked by me this night including (SPOILER ALERT!) the guy in the wheelchair. Please note that I said “walked by”… sorry to shatter your belief of Hollywood being a bastion of moral fortitude. They walked by single file – such a rookie maneuver – so all I had to do is stand with my hand out slightly (I like to use the back of my hand in these situations for obvious reasons) and I touched every single one of them. By the way, one of them had razor stubble on his arms. I am just sayin’…
Lots of touches this night: every generic girl from “The Hills;” Adam Lampert and the other guy who won but no one knows from “American Idol;” Mya from “Dancing with the Stars No One Cares About;” Jenna “Could I be any more adorable” Fisher from “The Office;” and Joel McHale from “The Soup.” And by the way, for the record, Joel says he looks nothing like me, as some have proclaimed.
While all of this child’s play celebrity touching was going on, I sensed a change in the atmosphere amongst the crowd. The “B’s” and “C’s” were on high alert. Someone of significance had entered the room. Was it Charo??? Scanning the crowd, I quickly found the individual causing the stir. Levi Johnston, the sire of the bastard grandson of Sarah Palin, was in the house. Just days before he showed his moose rifle for Playgirl magazine, here was Levi, fully clothed, looking terribly awkward at this celebrity free for all. Levi, the man who had touched the Palin family in a way no one else ever had (to our knowledge…. Although that Bristol Palin looks like a freewheelin’ tramp) quickly became the prime celebrity touch target of the evening. Unfortunately, he was completely on the other side of the room.
I handed my SKYY White Russian to my concubine Elizabeth and made my way through the sea of people, which proved to be rather difficult; like Britney Spears trying to navigate through a Burger King drive thru. It took me several minutes to get across the room, and by the time I did, Levi was on the move, heading to the VIP room. I had to act fast. I planned my trajectory and noticed a sizable crowd gathering around Miley Cyrus’s ex boyfriend (why? And was he really wearing a tank top after 6 pm indoors?).
This commotion was blocking my quickest route to Levi, so I darted behind the bar and made my way past the bartenders through an opening at the other end of the bar. Levi was within grasp… perhaps 10 yards away, but he was about to enter the VIP room. One quick burst of speed should do it… and…that’s when it happened: Fricking La Toya Jackson walked within five feet of me. I am not exactly sure where La Toya ranks on the celebrity “A” through “F” scale, but she is a prime touching target, even with that nose. The problem was, she was heading out of the VIP room to the exit, surrounded by bodyguards.
So, here is where I had to make my choice. No matter who I chose, the other one would surely get away. In a split second, I made up my mind: La Toya could plastic surgery her way to the great freak factory in the sky tomorrow. I may never have the chance again. So, I broke off pursuit of Levi and, racing over, I got close enough to La Toya to do the classic “Where the heck’s the bathroom in this place?” graze-by elbow touch with full pinkie extension. Happily, when I touched her, nothing fell off. I had secured my La Toya Jackson touch, just as I watched Levi disappear into the shadowy vortex that was the VIP room, a place from whence he never emerged. I left that evening with my first Jackson family touch, but no Levi. I was pleased but not fulfilled. I left the party and immediately retreated to the nearest Panda Express.