In one of my memes last week, I mentioned that I once brushed elbows with Tom Cruise without even knowing it. I also told a story about following Brooke Shields into an elevator because I thought she was Hope from Days of Our Lives. Suffice it to say, I will not be hired as an Us Weekly staff photographer anytime soon.

Maybe it’s because they look shorter in person. That’s what people say right? That they always expect celebrities to look taller. But I don’t think that’s the case for me. Everyone knows that Tom Cruise is short and Brooke Shields is an amazon in person. No – I just don’t recognize stars out of context. Maybe they don’t look as sparkly in person.

Since I went to college in New York and have visited “The City” on numerous occasions to visit friends and family, I’ve had plenty of opportunities for celebrity sightings. And I’ve probably had even more than I know of since I haven’t always been with a less oblivious friend to point them out to me.

A few examples that I remember well occurred at my weekend job in college. I worked brunch shifts as a hostess at The Yellow Rose Cafe, a restaurant on the Upper West Side (81st & Amsterdam to be exact). Don’t look for it – it’s not there anymore, but I have fond memories of free pancakes and breakfast burritos. Oh – and flan. I discovered flan there (which I thought of as cold crème brûlée without a crunchy top).

The first time I had a celebrity sighting at The Yellow Rose, I didn’t know it until the unrecognized actor had already left. A huge group came in and we had to create a large table for them in the cocktail area (the restaurant area was roughly the size of a shoe box}. Since they weren’t in the main dining space, I waited on them. It was obvious that one man was the leader of the group. So in an attempt to avoid interrupting the animated conversation taking place, I would check in with him to see if anything was needed. After two hours of chatting with this man as I took orders and refreshed coffee, I waved goodbye to the group and started to clean up. It was only then that one of my coworkers mentioned that it was Jeff Daniels. Not the most exciting of celebrity sightings – but come ON. I’d just seen The Butcher’s Wife, and after two hours I didn’t notice who he was? What’s wrong with me?

The next Yellow Rose celebrity sighting that I remember was that of a famous musician. The way that the restaurant was set up was kind of like a horseshoe. There were two doors into the space, and they were placed on either side of an entrance to the apartments upstairs. The first door, on the left opened into the bar. Up a few stairs behind the bar were the cocktail area and the office. A small hallway connected the cocktail area to the kitchen and wait station, and then a few steps down was the dining area. The second door, on the right opened into the dining area. To avoid chaos, we had a sign in the door on the restaurant side that said “please use other door.” This was pretty self explanatory, and you would think that patrons would see that sign and move on to the other door. You would be wrong. People CONSTANTLY walked in the wrong door, and as the hostess (and as a self absorbed college student), I found this endlessly annoying. And this was obvious since much huffing and puffing and eye rolling would commence every time someone walked in the wrong door. And yes – I did this in front of the customers. I was the best hostess ever.

Sorry for the detailed floor plan description – but it’s kind of important to the story. Back to the story… One Spring day, I was hanging out in the wait station, staring listlessly down at the three people sitting in the restaurant and wondering when the rush would begin. And of course hoping it wouldn’t. As the hostess, I didn’t make tips and would much rather sit in the cocktail area watching a Real World New York marathon on MTV. Just as I was thinking that it might be time to order myself a second plate of pancakes, a very tall, skinny man walked in THE WRONG DOOR. People in Central Park probably heard my huffing and puffing. At the very least they could hear me stomping down the short aisle of tables to intercept yet another blind customer.

In my defense, the door was open so the sign was literally dangling at eye level and swaying in the warm breeze from the street. And I saw him put his hands out in front of his haggard face to move the sign out of his way. He actually touched the sign and blatantly ignored it. I was incensed. As I “greeted” him, I asked in my best bitchy New York hostess tone how many people would be in his party. He just pointed to the back of the restaurant. I assumed that he was pointing to the table where he wanted to sit. So I started to lead him in that direction. I asked if a table for two would be okay and again, he just pointed. I was outraged. He couldn’t be bothered to open his mouth and answer me? It was unbelievable. Then after some passive aggressive eye rolling I put menus down on a table that seemed to be in the trajectory of his finger. Without one glance in my direction, he walked past me and sat down with a woman at the next table.

When I returned to the wait station fuming, I told Kevin Bone, one of the waiters about the rudest man on the planet that was currently seated in his section. Kevin looked down at the table, squinted and said, “hey – that’s Lou Reed.”

The last celebrity sighting that I’d like to relate would be using the term “celebrity” very loosely. But it’s also my favorite. It was 1992ish and I had been working at The Yellow Rose for a couple of years. One of the waiters that worked the brunch shifts with me was named Eddie. He was an actor (of course) and never failed to make me laugh with his deadpan comments and observations. I also knew that Eddie’s dad was a successful TV actor. Meaning he had small supporting roles on TV shows and would look familiar to me if I saw him (in theory of course since we’ve already established that I don’t recognize actors).

One weekend that Eddie was out of town, a man came in and asked for him. When he heard that Eddie wouldn’t be back for several days, he was very disappointed. Apparently he was just visiting New York and would be leaving the next day. I don’t remember all that much about this part of the conversation because I was too busy thinking about how many nanoseconds were left before my shift ended. But I did muster up enough consideration to suggest that he leave a message. As he was writing his message on the paper I provided, he started to explain how he knew Eddie. Again – since I wasn’t particularly interested, I didn’t catch most of the details. But I did start to think that there was something kind of familiar about him. He was talking about how he knew Eddie’s father, that they had been on a television show together….blah, blah, blah. At this point, I was thinking, “this guy really wants me to recognize him from TV – who the hell is he?” Then he said, “you may have seen it – it was a show called Newhart.” And it finally came to me. He was Larry. As in, “hi – I’m Larry – this is my brother Darryl and this is my other brother Darryl.” Awesome.

Anyone under the age of 32 (and some possibly older than that) might not have any idea what I’m talking about – but if you ever watched Newhart, you would have to agree. He was by far the best celebrity sighting I had at The Yellow Rose. And god love him – he managed to walk in the right door.

At the end of the day, that’s what really counts with me. I think that I don’t recognize celebrities because I’m not impressed by celebrity. Aside from devouring Us Weekly…well, weekly – I don’t have that much interest in seeing actors. They’re far more interesting when they’re styled and airbrushed on the glossy pages of magazines. In person, their averageness falls kind of flat. So being famous will never endear you to me. But if you respect the sanctity of a “please use other door” sign? I may be willing to give you a second glance. Or at least a free plate of flan.

Related Posts via Categories

• They Coulda’ Been Great: September-December 2016
• My Favorite Day
• They Coulda’ Been Great: July-August 2016
• They Coulda’ Been Great: May-June 2016
• They Coulda’ Been Great: February-April 2016
• They Coulda’ Been Great: December 2015-January 2016
• They Coulda’ Been Great: November 2015
• They Coulda’ Been Great: October 2015
• They Coulda’ Been Great: September 2015
• Buyer AND Seller Beware… (Alternatively Titled: Who the ‘Eff ARE These People on Craig’s List??)