“That
is not exactly, true, MOV. It was the
gas station.”
Ahem!
Johnny, who is telling this story? Like I was saying, I was ordering my triple latte and there was Johnny
Depp in line directly behind me. For a
second I thought maybe I should let him go ahead of me in case he was in a
hurry.
“Who
are you kidding, MOV? If a bleeding
nun wanted to go ahead of you, you would say no.”
So anyway,
there was Johnny Depp, in all of his Johnny Deppness splendor. I smiled over at him, willing him to notice
me. I wanted to be subtle.
“Gag! That is not what happened at all.
Is your entire blog like this?
Made up? You came up to me in the
middle of me pumping gas and begged for an autograph. For your daughter!”
Okay, Johnny,
first of all, get your facts straight. I
do not even have a daughter, so why would I do that? All right.
Back to my story. I smiled at
Johnny, and he definitely noticed me back.
I was in my United Airlines uniform.
“This
was after you quit. You were not in your
uniform. You were pumping gas and eating
M&Ms straight from the package. And
when I said I had no paper to do the autograph, you said I could just sign your
arm.”
Johnny made
his move. He said to me, Are you working the flight to Paris?
“Gah! I would never say that. Hello, I live with Vanessa, the mother of my children?”
And then I
said, No, and then he said—
“Bwahahahahahahahahaha! That is, like, so unoriginal.”
Excuse me,
who is telling this story? Then he said,
Such a pity, because I will be on that
flight. In first class.
“MOV,
that is all implied. I always fly first
class, I am Johnny Depp, Pirates of the
Caribbean? Remember? Alice in Wonderland? Charlie
and the Chocolate Factory?”
Johnny,
please stop interrupting. So then Johnny
turned to me and said, Maybe you could
change your flight.
“Are
you smoking crack?! It was the gas
station! Vanessa! Your arm!”
And I said, I would love to switch flights, but I might
be fired, and then Johnny said—
“Is
this the part where you are going to say I asked you to marry me?”
Marry me, lovely flight attendant—
“This
is so far-fetched!!! Who is your target
audience, anyway?”
Run away with me to Paris, and we can
drink fine wine and eat chocolate croissants all day—
“I
would never say that. I am on a no-carb
diet.”
So I said,
Johnny, I would love to, and I already
fell in love with you back in your Edward Scissorhands days, but alas, I cannot
because—
“Let
me get this straight: now you are saying
no to me??”
Yes. Maybe.
Not really.
MOV
