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Since this so rarely happens, I felt compelled to report on my celebrity “encounter” over the weekend. I love how those quotation marks makes it sound so much sexier than it actually was, but just hang with me on this one. So, this weekend, I was hanging out with some lady friends, one of whom just happens to be Megan of Overeducated and Underemployed, and we all went out to get some swanky Beverly Hills haircuts. Well, we were leaving the parking structure in which we had parked, when we found ourselves windshield to windshield (sort of) with Agent Jack Bauer entering the structure, just as we were paying the parking attendant. Because I’m lazy and partially because I was so amped up on my new haircut the moment was a blur, I’m going to let Megan tell this part of the story:

A man in a Range Rover rolled up opposite our estrogen overloaded selves. Lisa spied the man first, looking dapper in a charcoal suit, and discreetly pointed him out. Discretion was tossed aside shortly, however, when K-Na, unaware that her window was rolled down, exclaimed in awe: “It’s Jack!!!”

Mortification. And yet…what’s this? He’s turned down his radio and is leaning out of his Range Rover to chat us up. “Happy Saturday”, Kiefer Sutherland said. “I see you guys have presents…where are you headed?” Panties, meet floor. We had no idea we were all in love with Kiefer Sutherland until that very moment.

The part that Megan didn’t realize was that I had at that point, rolled down my window and yelled “Sprinkles!” to answer Kiefer with the self-satisfaction of realizing that I had spoken only when spoken to, as I had been trained to do from a very young age.

In any case, this is a pretty clear example of why I’m so rarely allowed to be around real celebrities. I’m going to have to stick to D-listers and reality whores until I’m a little more desensitized.

(Flynet)