Brunch at Hugos

August 11, 2006

reesew.jpgI generally avoid breakfast or lunch at Hugos as it’s a madhouse. It seems all of Hollywood, stars, star-wannabies, agents, lawyers, casting directors, are all having deductible meals. At brunch, you can avoid the celebrity din. Or so I thought.

Living in Hollywood, out of towners ALWAYS ask “So, do you see any stars?” The pinnacle of my celebrity sightings was getting cruised in my local grocery store 10 years ago by Johnny Mathis (in the produce section; I didn’t even know he was gay), and Nicole Kidman (at the checkout stand. No surprise, we always knew she had a thing for gay men — oh did I say that?).

Today I came into Hugos and it was half full. However, every person there looked like someone I’ve seen somewhere. Not watching much TV, I didn’t know who they were. I sat down, ordered my cafe latte, and looked over to my left and there was Reese Witherspoon. She looked great. A little thicker in the face. She has a funny, peanut nose and a great laugh. Does not seem like an evil bitch/diva at all. The man she was with looked like he was her father, late 60s, thinning white hair. She wore a muted (?) zebra-like silk top that covered most of a black lace undergarment that exposed itself at her plunged cleavage and above her knees. She had thin silver pumps and great legs. I didn’t listen to their conversation or try.

The couple in front of me got up and left, exposing someone who was likely Moby, looking starrishly nerdy, waiting for the caffeine to kick in. A friend sat down with him and I didn’t have to keep avoiding looking at him. So I glanced over, and there was Reese again, looking happy and calm. I focused on my delicious tamales and thought about what a good job I was doing avoiding revising music. I looked up. An actress in her late 50s with Goldie Hawn short spiky hair, sat down directly across from me and stared me down. My heart DID skip a beat. I sliced off another piece of caprese salad to avoid her laser vision. I looked at her again while she was scanning the menu. Hmmm. Nice face lift. Pretty good skin for a 60 year old. What did she used to look like? And who is this woman? Then she looked up at me, but her face was soon occluded by her husband (built like a linebacker) who sat down in front of her, his back to me. My attentive neo-hippy waitress gave me the bill which I paid and left.

I saw Reese and her Dad driving away in what was likely her Dad’s rental car. She looked at me thanking me for leaving them alone.

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