Okay. Here’s what happened yesterday, late in the afternoon.
Behind the reception desk at The Network, I’m playing Bejeweled. Up come Scott Baio (makes me wish there were an html command to draw a little heart around text) and Thomas Calabro (who you may remember as Dr. Michael Mancini from Melrose Place). Unlikely pair? I think so. They kindly sign in. They’re early.
I say to Dr. Mancini, “It’s amazing; I look at you and I still feel the hate.”
“The hate from what?” Scott asks.
“From Melrose Place,” I say, “You were just so convincing.”
Michael does not look impressed. He does not look unimpressed either. He looks like he has a touch of malaise. I panic, thinking that I may have found the Captain Kirk to his Shatner. Maybe he despises Melrose Place, Billy, Amanda, and especially Michael…maybe he’d like to forget he ever did the thing at all. After all, he has appeared in a number of quality television films, including Stolen Innocence and Hard Knox. I quickly backpedal and make a lame attempt at joking with him.
“Of course, I don’t really hate you. I mean, I’ll still validate your parking.”
“Well, thanks so much.” Can’t even work up a convincing sarcastic tone. Scott asks me for a cigarette, and I’ve left mine at home.
“Don’t worry,” I say, “I’ll get one.” I IM the new receptionist, who is upstairs temping for another deparment the last half of the day. I know she’s a smoker. Get down here, Charles in Charge wants a cigarette. She doesn’t respond. I am going to have to find one myself. I leave the desk unattended and embark on a mission to get Scott his nic fix.
I find one of the girls in IT who smokes. “Scott Baio wants a cigarette,” I blurt out. She holds up a box of Nicorette. I hustle to News and ask another gal. She quit last week. Why in the hell did everyone choose to quit smoking right when Chachi would finally grace me with his presence and allow me this one golden opportunity to satiate his desires? Someone overhears my plight and points in me in the direction of the corner office, where I finally am able to bum a Parliament off some dude.
Gingerly holding the cigarette (I don’t want to sully his lips with any of the cooties from the doors I’ve been opening during my mission), I make it back out to the lobby.
“Wow!” His eyes open wide. “You actually found one for me!”
“Of course I did! Anything for you.”
I totally just said that. To Scott Baio. The gal upstairs comes out of the elevator lobby, cigarette in hand. She sees I’ve just handed him one.
“Found one already? I guess I’ll just have to smoke this one myself!”
She proceeds to join the two guests outside for a puff while I look longingly at him through the glass pane walls. *sigh*
A third person joins the party once they are inside, and they head up to the meeting shortly after.
After their meeting, only the third member stops at the desk for validation. Scott and Thomas stroll through the lobby towards the front door…but Scott turns just at the desk and says, “Hey, thanks again!”
I melt into a little puddle of goo.
“Don’t they need their parking validated?” I ask the third man (who apparently has no freaking name, at least not to me). “Do they have a driver?”
This makes #3 laugh out loud. “They’re not that famous,” he tells me sardonically.
This comment, I take personally. With all the fervor of an adolescent girl wishing desperately that she was Sarah Powell, I insist, “He’ll always be famous to me!”
Did I mention I’m wearing pigtails? And a little artificial buttercup barette? Well, I was. And I meant every word of it. I want Charles in Charge…of me.
Are you serious? As a heart attack.