Pain, Pleasure, and the Common Cold

Are you there Blog? It's me, Robyn...

Sorry Judy. So, I guess this is me beginning a blog. I dunno why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. I fully acknowledge that I have less to offer than other blog-contributors. I am not wryly funny (like Sean), nor enigmatic (like Kristin) nor am I a social butterfly (like Michele and Gene) nor getting laid consecutively by different European men (Cody). I don’t even have a painting of myself to post on my site (btw Kati, in the painting you look chillingly similar to the senators daughter in Silence of the Lambs. Spoo-k-k-k-y).

I will have my blog anyway, tho. I think my little stories are interesting and well worth chronicling, even if no one else does.

My first blog story will not be about the family of assholes and mini-assholes that I waited on tonight, because they sucked so much that they don’t even deserve another word. Bitches.

My first blog story will be about the charming Lord of the Rings boys that I had the pleasure of waiting on last night. First I waited on Sean Astin, the Samwise Gamgee/Goonies guy. At least I think that’s who he was. Everyone kept making a big deal about his food getting there on time, and the whole evening I was confused about who was the celebrity and who was just the friend of the celebrity! I still am, kind of - I mean, metaphorically.

Anyway, the Goonies guy was very complimentary and sweet. Also, he kept touching me throughout the evening, which I normally would not tolerate from a customer (yea right) but with him it was kind of exciting, since he was, you know, a celebrity and all. (Or was that his friend?)

Later on in the evening around midnight, a very tiny and very drunk Elija Wood staggered into the restaurant. (He really was tiny. I allowed him to stand on a step above me during our conversation so I would not be forced to squat.) He asked if it was too late to eat dinner, I accused him of trying to make me work late, and we were friends instantly. I told him that my car had been broken into (yes, for the fifth time, people!) and he immediatly hugged me while his sexy Vueve Cliquot -drinking friend offered to beat the culprit(s) up. I replied that I would have kicked the culprits ass myself if I’d known who he was. And I did not return the hug.
So there it is - a sparkling example of me keeping my composure when confronted with psuedo-celebrities, as unprecedented as this episode was.

Okay no more name-dropping for a really long time. I guess I’ll just brush my teeth and go crawl in bed with Ash(ton Kutcher).