(photo Tony Shek used under CC)
Yesterday I was with my writing partner Douglas. We were directed to park by the attendant and I see a girl sorta blocking the space, and as he slowly pulls into the space, the girl moves out of the way and is waiting calmly for the driver of the SUV she apparently exited.
“That’s Dakota Fanning,” I say.
Douglas drives a little more carefully. He pulls in right behind the SUV and Dakota is within two feet of him. I pretend not to notice, trying not to smile. Douglas drops his keys when he gets out of his car, he’s obviously flustered. But he too pretends like he always drops his keys.
When we finally enter a DFZ (Dakota Free Zone). We laugh and talk about how we just made a Dakota joke and how she’d be pissed at us (as if she constantly monitors the webernet for obscure mentions in podcasts).
It’s interesting to me that we Angelinos feel compelled to feign ignorance of celebrity. It’s the only thing that separates a local from a tourist. That and knowing to take Fountain. This sort of self-restraint, our version of the British stiff upper lip is a trademark of our own local pride. These celebs are just people, if I treat them like they’re just like me, they will treat me like I’m just like them. Or at least that’s the fantasy.
Any stories of you pretending to ignore famous people?