Mista-Mista

I sort of met Tina Fey at the Golden Globes last night. Here’s how it went down.

               In the days leading up to Sunday nights’ Golden Globes, which I attended because my girlfriend was Ms. Golden Globe, my loving mother bludgeoned me with the same piece of advice. She was very concerned about this one issue and the conversations we had usually went something like this… “For the love of God, please don’t get stinkin’ drunk and make a total ass out of yourself. I’m serious Richard, this isn’t a joke, don’t be an idiot. Drink lots of water and pace yourself. You know, you can pace yourself and still have a good time. You don’t have to get hammered. I really am serious Richard, don’t be a jackass.”

               If you had overheard this advice without knowing me (advice which I heard no less than a dozen times), you would probably conclude that I am a level-headed,  man of moderation; a grounded young man with a clean slate, who is constantly aware and who always does the right things. While I have had my less-than finer moments (as we all have had, right?… right.), I would say that I am a pretty responsible young man. I am smart enough to know, as a young actor fortunate enough to get to attend the Golden Globes, that it would be unimaginably stupid to get belligerent and make a fool of myself in front of all the people that could one day potentially control my career.

               All that aside, I did get drunk. Now, it wasn’t until after the award ceremony (actually it was towards the end of the ceremony. Sarah Michelle Gellar who is super nice and fun, was at my table and sort of leading the charge… plus they kept bringing over these huge bottles of Champagne… plus there wasn’t a whole lot to eat, just chocolate and cucumber finger sandwiches… plus I like to drink), and I wasn’t trashed but I was definitely buzzed. And based on what I have seen in those “buzzed driving is drunk driving” commercials, I can confidently confirm that I was drunk.

               As most people who have drank before (drank be-, drunk before… is it drunk before? What the hell is the past drink in this context?)

               As most people who have had drinks before can attest to, drinking gives you the confidence to do things that you might not do sober. At the after parties I attended, I did things like: congratulate Kelsey Grammar on best dramatic actor, dance a little bit too much, take shots with the kid from War Horse, and smack Charlize Theron on the butt… Ok, I didn’t spank Charlize or take shots with the War Horse kid, but if my mom is reading this, she might have passed out upon hearing that. Sorry mom! I love you!

               Anyway, to get to the point, once I started feeling more confident (drunker), I began to think that I could talk to anyone without my nerves getting in the way… This is what I thought…

               Now, my girlfriend, her two cats, and I just drove here to L.A. from New Orleans, and during the 32 hour drive we listened to the new audiobook Bossy Pants, by the hilarious and super-cool Tina Fey. It’s a really great book… and I needed to tell her that.

               I am not sure what time it was, but Rainey and I were leaving. We were walking out of the InStyle after party, and low and behold… guess who was walking in with her husband. This was my chance, but as we got closer, I got more nervous… Do I say something, or do I not say anything? Do I say something OR DO I NOT SAY ANYTHING?! OH SHIT SHE’S RIGHT HERE AND SHE’S ABOUT TO WALK PAST AND BE GONE FOREVER. THIS IS MY ONLY CHANCE… DO I DO IT OR NOT!!?!?

               With my thoughts progressively getting louder and more aggressive, I decided at the last second, that yes, it was a good idea to say something. So, with the same aggression and loudness of my thoughts, from about 3 feet away, I yelled like a raspy bridge-troll “HEY! JUST READ BOSSY PANTS. IT IS GREAT.” It wasn’t until after she politely replied, “Thank you?” while looking at me as if I was running at her wearing nothing but a football helmet, and after I noticed that I had startled quite a few of the surrounding guests, including my girlfriend who waited a few seconds to start uncontrollably laughing at me, that I realized I maybe should have just held this one in, and saved it for later.

               Sorry mom, please forgive me… by the way, I am shipping home all this dirty laundry that’s piling up, including my tux from last night that needs to be dry-cleaned. I bet you’re excited to see the tux in person. Your dry cleaners can take out vomit stains, right? Can you just over-night it whenever you get a chance (actually, i need it no later than this weekend), I LOVE YOU!

Post-script:

For reference, here’s a still-shot that a buddy of mine texted me a few days later.

I’m the guy who isn’t Tilda Swinton, Rob Lowe, or Andie MacDowell… I’m the guy drinking.