You know you’re in L.A., specifically Universal City, when your hotel lobby is plastered in photos of movie stars. Swoon. That and tiny plates of food that look as though they were baked and served to leprechauns (or maybe fairies), traffic that boggles my mind, oh, and shopping, and celebrities.
That’s right. Celebrities.
Cary Grant & Audrey Hepburn
and Elvis Presley
City of Angels. (Though my angel sightings have been few and far between.)
Last night, as I lounged on my hotel balcony sipping my Cosmos (okay, okay, it was plain green tea/hold the sweetener … you got me), I nearly fell to my death. What caused this unfortunate, heart stopping, lap scalding event, you may wonder?
Go ahead. Ask away. I’ll wait.
I’m so glad you asked!
He of the marvelous accent, the distinguished silver hair, the dashing, debonair air about him. Yep, that’s the one.
Now, far be it from me to get all googly-eyed over just anyone. I mean, I could walk right by Snookie and not know her, I could have sat right next to all the Real Housewives of so-and-so and never noticed, and I’m fairly certain Justin Bieber held the door for me, but Sean Connery? Well, let’s just say I flushed and suddenly the balcony seemed overly warm.
Maybe it was the tea I sloshed on my blouse. No matter.
I croaked out a barely coherent, I love you, Sean! just in time to see Marilyn Monroe stroll by.
Turns out there’s a Celebrity Look Alike convention going on in my hotel.
Totally explains my Elvis sighting.