Lover, Do You Want Any Chevre? Bri-Bri, Chevre?

I just got a cryptic message from my friend, Andy, that simply said, “I met someone last night that I thought you would enjoy. I will give you two clues. First clue: “ ‘If Gabriel wants to rollerblade to the Chelsea Pier and back, Gabriel will rollerblade to the Chelsea Pier and back!’ Second Clue: It’s not Gabriel.”

Any of you familiar with this little line of pure comic genius will most likely understand the overwhelming jealousy, awe, and thrill that I felt when I realized that my good friend had been privileged enough to meet the one, the only Sir David Cross. (That’s right, “Sir.” He was recently knighted as “Sir David Cross, Vigilant Joke-Maker, and Loyal Laugh-Elicitor.”) Apparently the lucky S.O.B. was just kickin’ it at this club or something in Austin, Tejas when he turned to see none other than that Balding Bliss-Maker himself chatting with some people. Andy and his much-more-developed backbone than the one that I seemingly possess went right up to the man, who holds that smile-shaped piece of my heart, and actually spoke to him!! Can you believe it? He actually had a little convo with the genius!

As jealous as I am, I have to say that it was probably better that it was Andy and not me – if for no other reason than our ill-fated dialogue would have gone something more like this:
David Cross: (finally feeling uncomfortable enough to address the girl standing at least eight feet away from him, staring with her mouth hanging open.) “Uh, are you okay, lady?”
Me: “Ughuhuhuhguhguh.”
David Cross: “Excuse me?”
Me: “You, David Cross.”
David Cross: “Uh, yes – yes, I am.”
Me: (regaining some ability of tongue and words) “Yeah, I am such a big fan of your funny!”
David Cross: “Oh, thanks.” (turns to go back to original conversation.)
Me: “I mean, I totally love your comedy c.d. and your work on Arrested Development and your face and glasses and –”
David Cross: (cutting me off) “ – uh, thanks. Look, I’m in the middle –”
Me: (getting more and more worked up)“ – and remember that one time, when you were like, ‘Not the Assaulted Nuts! What more must I do!’ ” (now, actually acting motions out.)
David Cross: “Yeah, I remember. Uh. . .”
Me: “And that part where you were like, ‘Maybe that 100th chick likes to fuck on a pile of garbage?””
David Cross: (getting more and more impatient) “Yes! Of course I remember that!”
Me: (practically in a fervor now) “Cuz, I mean, if I was the 100th chick and you were the trash man – I would totally fuck you in a landfill – hell, we could do it right now!” (knocks over trashcan spilling out contents all over floor. Music in club stops. I am finally shocked back to reality.)
David Cross: “. . . .”
Me: “. . . .”
David Cross: “Uhhh. . .”
Me: “Um, yeah – so it was, uh, nice to me—”
David Cross: “Yeah – sure.” (begins to walk away)
Me: “I’ll pick this up.” (now on floor picking up trash.) “Great talking to you. Call me!”

So, yeah – good for Andy. And better for David Cross that it wasn’t me.


Tolles said...

"Nothing's going to keep Gabriel from rollerblading to the Chelsea peers, Mr. Osama Bin Jerk-head or whatever your name is!"

"Pan-seared peasnaps. That's a new one."

Ali said...

Is he sure that this was the REAL David Cross and not his quasi-famous doppelganger? You know, the guy who trolls David's - ahem, Sir David's - haunts pretending to be him and getting undeserved David Cross pussy? It's true.

Amanda said...

No - I'm pretty sure it was definitely him. They were at some big-time thing or something. Andy would be pretty good at figuring it out.