The first week I was on this new job, all my co-workers could talk about is how Adam Sandler walks around the lot, or how our offices look right into Will Farrell's production company. Or how DENZEL WASHINGTON is just like...hanging out in the common area. By the time I get out too see about any of these sightings (save for the Will Farrell production company...remind me to tell you about "Window Guy"...), the only people in sight are PAs, security guards, and a bunch (bunch!) of union workers taking their 2349087th smoke break of the day. Well, to be fair, on my first day I DID see a bunch of those fucking Cavemen dudes strolling around, giving thumbs ups, and taking photographs with tourists on the lot. Yes, you can take a tour if you want. No, I won't join you. On my second day, I took the long route to my office from the parking structure, which is already like...half a mile away...in hopes that by covering more area, my chances of bumping into Denzel would be greater. Wrong. But I DID see those fucking CAVEMEN again smoking cigarettes outside of their trailer, waiting for their prosthetic makeup to be completed. They were everywhere. I was even watching an episode of Dancing With The Stars and they cut to some audience members who were none other than the FUCKING CAVEMEN. I couldn't get away from those bastards! A week went by, and the only thing I ever saw were the backs of celebrities heads as they walked by me unnoticed. Of course, the only moment I ever looked down, all sorts of awesome people would walk right by me without my knowledge.
About a week into this gig, my day came. I was at the cafe for lunch waiting for my turkey wrap and trying desperately to find my happy place since the feng shui of the place is so off it spins me into an instant panic attack, and suddenly something came into my sight that broke my focus. It was Jonah Hall from Superbad. Those of you who don't already know, I have the biggest jones for supergeeks, and seeing Jonah Hill was like the jackpot. Still in my state of tranquility, and unable to react appropriately, I just stared at him. He was talking to some dirty looking dude, who I would later realize was James Franco, and every time he tried to get to the salad bar or soda fountain, I would sorta just...sidle up to him and not say anything. It was like he was the Great White Shark, and I was his trusty little pilot fish. Only, I'm pretty sure he would rather I wasn't near him at all, unlike the Great White. Nothing eventful happened after that. I didn't say anything ridiculous, which is...shocking. And neither did he. But I felt like I had won. No more of this fucking CAVEMEN BULLSHIT. I'm in the big leagues, I thought. But that wasn't the real magic.
On our way back I was in the middle of a gang of dudes and I was aggressively arguing that video game violence has a direct effect on our youth, and most certainly desensitizes humanity to all sorts of violence, thus making the act of actual violence seem less consequential. Brian Phillips, our lovable editor with a whisper as loud as a blowhorn, tapped my shoulder right in the midst of my closing arguments, and said something that I guess I was supposed to listen to. But this was my moment to lock down this argument and, perhaps, change the way someone thought...which is always my goal. *SIDENOTE: I really don't know why I got so worked up about video game violence in the first place. As a general rule, I try to avoid dating guys that are heavily into video games, but it's only because it takes the focus off of me for a moment while they are wrapped up in whatever fucking ridiculous fantasy world at the time. ANYHOW. Brian Phillips kept tapping my shoulder and trying to whisper the words "Denzel Washington," but it was loud enough for good old Denzel to tip his head into our direction. My reaction time must be slow, because not until I was face to face with Denzel did the words that Brian shouted compute, so Denzel's glance was met with the most typical of Lindsay reactions. I looked at Denzel Washington and, once our eyes officially met, I screamed the words "SON OF A MOTHERFUCKER!!!" Startled, I'm sure, Denzel just...bowed his head and kept walking by. It may not have been my proudest moment, but it was a moment I'll remember for the rest of my life. Never again will I be able to watch a film featuring Denzel, whether he is portraying a crooked cop, a beloved high school football coach, or...Mahatma Gandhi...NEVER will I be able to look at his face without thinking the words SON OF A MOTHERFUCKER. It would make more sense if it had been some dirtbag actor like...James Franco, for instance. Then it would have just been hilarious. But it had to be one of the classiest men in motion pictures today. And for that, Denzel, I apologize. You've earned more respect than that. But you have to admit...it's still pretty funny.
"In Los Angeles, everyone is a star." - Denzel Washington