Monday, November 22, 2010

an encounter that doesn't count

and speaking of embarrassing experiences that i want to share for inexplicable reasons ...

i have a long list of random celebrity crushes, some more embarrassing than others. at any given opportunity, my sisters will always remind me that i had a thing for raymond lauchengco and once considered his cassette tape (cassette tape!!!) a prized possession. if you were ever a fan, you know which tape i'm talking about. i was in love with vic sotto (not a very big surprise) for a really long time, from elementary up to about 3 minutes ago, when i decided to write this blog and thought it was about time to end my imaginary affair with him. my first foreign crush was emilio estevez because he was in breakfast club and i liked the sound of his name. i liked john taylor of duran duran, i liked richard grieco of 21 jump street, i liked the menudo boy who wasn't the lead and wasn't ricky martin, i liked robert hays of the starman tv series, and zzzzz ...

*waking up from self-indulgence–induced nap*

somewhere on that list of random celebrity crushes is ronan keating of ... just a sec ... (and i cannot believe i had to search the net for the name of his boyband) boyzone. i'm not sure what i liked about any of my celebrity crushes and ronan was no exception. at that time, i thought he had a cute face (what, you expected me to admire his curriculum vitae?), and it was all over music videos and tv ads, especially when he visited manila to promote his solo album.

around the time of ronan's manila visit, i had a really late dinner with three girlfriends. as you've probably guessed by now (and if you haven't, you probably have better things to do than read a silly blog), ronan was in the restaurant. we found out because one of my girlfriends saw him walking behind me and her eyes popped out and landed on the nachos (just kidding, they were cheese fries).

'ronan is here! he's going to the men's room! run after him!!!'

ok, first of all: WHY? second of all: WHY THE HELL? was i going to propose marriage or offer cheese fries (or maybe some toilet paper)? being the shy, introverted person that i was, i refused to move from my spot just to stalk a celebrity. one of my friends, let's call her friendly friend, couldn't care less about ronan keating but she was excited for me and lovingly shoved me out of our booth. she used to be a professional celebrity stalker and thought nothing of hiding in the bushes to jump on unsuspecting basketball players (just kidding, she hid behind cars).

because of all the hesitation and prodding, ronan had finished his business already by the time we got to the men's room. so there we were, friendly friend and i, mortified and plastered to the walls of the very narrow passageway leading to the toilets. needless to say, ronan saw us there and my friend was able to muster a friendly 'hi' (she's not a pro for nothing). after he maneuvered his way around us, i casually informed my friend that i needed my life to end that very second. she didn't believe me and we walked weakly (me) and happily (my friend) back to our table.

we stayed at the resto until about 2 am and left because the service crew was starting to switch the lights on and off and throw bar stools in our general direction. as we exited, i saw that there was a van parked directly in front of the restaurant steps. it was ronan's ride. and ronan was still there, signing autographs for another group of girls. friendly friend was again beside herself with excitement and pushed me toward the singer (there was a lot of pushing that night). meanwhile, my brain had switched off again and all i could do was stare blankly.

'paper! give me paper!' my friend asked, with urgency.

i threw my folder of scratch paper at her.

'ballpen! do you have a ballpen!'

i looked at her with zero comprehension, because at that moment, i really had no idea what she was saying. what is a ballpen? who is talking to me? why am i here? look, blond guy near big moving thing with wheels!

to make a boring story short(er), friendly friend found a cheap blue pen in my bag and went over to ronan like the expert that she was. my friends then admired the blue scribble on my dirty paper and skipped away, leaving me standing by the door, still looking at the skinny pale guy who was trying to get into his ride and escape the strangely inanimate fan staring at him.

1 comment:

taty said...

wow!! he was also my 'krass...'