My younger brother, who recently moved to Los Angeles, called me the other day.
“I have an only-in-LA story for you,” he told me.
“I was at a street festival and I saw Heidi Fleiss…man, she looked rough.”
“No shocker there,” I answered. “It’s like she tried to suck her own face off with a Dustbuster and then injected collagen into what was left.”
Despite the fact that my brother is in a prime location for celebrity spotting, I really can’t get too jealous. Why? Because we have plenty of our OWN celebs right here in H-town. For example, two days after my brother called, yours truly spotted Wayne Dolcefino at a Thai place in Bellaire.
How’s them apples, little bro?
Honestly though. I did see Dolcefino. Wayne, his gut, and two other people sat near me at Sawadee Thai, and when he walked in, I was like, “Oh, that’s Wayne Dolcefino.” He has the same scheming smirk in person that he has on television, and he was all like, “Hello,” when he saw me glance at him. Whatever! I half expected him to pull out a camera and film a hatchet job right then and there. (Local pop culture blogger eating when she could be blogging!!! How dare she!!!)
So anyway, he got his food before my party did despite the fact that we got there first. Also, I guess someone at his table complained of being warm, because the waitress brought out a small fan, plugged it in, and placed it on his table. I guess unearthing corruption and injustice has its benefits…although Wayne didn’t seem too concerned when a person in my party received the wrong order and the waitress failed to remove the item from the bill. Hmm…could Dolcefino be lagging in his duties because he’s getting preferential treatment? I smell a scoop!! (Whatever, like I actually care.)
I’ve spotted other Houston celebs. When I was working full time as a reporter for the Press, I had hands down the oddest run-in I’d ever had as a journalist. I was scheduled to interview Joel Osteen at the Grotto in Highland Village just days after the Enron scandal had exploded. I don’t truly count Joel as a celebrity sighting as I had a planned interview with him…but don’t worry, the story gets better. As I was waiting in the Grotto’s lobby, Joel walks in…just as Ken Lay and his wife Linda were walking out. There was no way they couldn’t acknowledge each other.
The face on Osteen’ PR rep grew slightly pained, but Joel just stuck out his hand and said something along the lines of, “We’re prayin’ for ya.” Freaky deaky! I asked Joel about it later on at lunch, and he told me that Linda had told him they wanted to visit Lakewood. For the sake of Kenny Boy’s soul, let’s hope he made it.
I must have been sending out some weird Enron vibes around that time, because a few days later I spotted whistleblower Sherron Watkins eating with friends at Paulie’s and trying to look like she didn’t realize people were looking at her. Maybe you should have ordered pizza instead, Sherron!
When I was volunteering as a box office clerk for the late Infernal Bridegroom Productions, I assisted KHOU’s Doug Miller with his tickets. I was kind of drunk at the time and said something like, “Aren’t you on, like….television or something?” Doug joked around that I probably knew him from all the underground porn he did, and we both had a laugh about it. Actually, he didn’t say that at ALL. He was extremely polite and told me he was a local news anchor, then got away from me as fast as he could. The porn line would have been funny though.
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Oh, and I saw Chad Allen at the Pride Parade a few years back. I didn’t realize he was going to be there, and when I saw him, I started hitting my husband and screaming frantically, “Honey, honey, it’s Chad Allen. From “My Two Dads”! From “Dr. Quinn”! It’s Chad Allen!!! I had a huge crush on him once!”
“Somehow, I doubt he would say the same thing about you,” Mr. Pop Rocks responded dryly.
True, but whatever. It was still awesome to see him.
So there, that wraps up the list. My Houston celebrity sightings. It may not be Heidi Fleiss, but honestly, when it comes to Miss Pimpin’ and Pornstar Doug Miller, there really is no comparison. Doug Miller all the way! – Jennifer Mathieu