- Paul Davidson
I Definitely Did Not Meet Christina Ricci
I definitely did not meet Christina Ricci.
Star of The Addams Family, Cursed, Monster, Sleepy Hollow and much much more — I did not meet her while standing in line at the local juice bar.
She was not wearing a low cut wife-beater T-shirt with a black heart silkscreened on it, and she was not ordering two full-size drinks.
I didn’t say, “You sure you can drink two of those?”
She didn’t say, “I’m a big girl, I can do it.”
At that point, she didn’t turn around and go back to her ordering, and she definitely didn’t pull out one of those Black American Express cards — the kinds that have no limits and are only given to people who spend more than $100,000 a year. All of this, wasn’t happening. And I wasn’t there watching it all break down.
Of course, there weren’t people starting to whisper about her in the juice bar either. People weren’t pointing and there definitely wasn’t this one teenager with a pocked-face who approached her and asked for an autograph, which she definitely didn’t give him.
Just to be funny, I didn’t step up to the register after she moved to the side and order the same exact two drinks that she ordered. And I definitely didn’t say to her “I’m a big boy, I can do it” when she looked at me cockeyed. And I sure as hell didn’t give her a half-cocked smile of a look either.
These things I did not do.
After not doing any of the above things, and after getting the drinks I definitely didn’t order, I didn’t move over to the table where she had sat down. She definitely wasn’t typing away on one of those internet phone thingamajigs, which she quickly put away as she noticed I was watching her (not).
She didn’t say, “Ok, what is it?”
There’s no way I said, “You’re not going to be able to finish both of those drinks.”
She definitely didn’t respond with, “What makes you so sure?”
To which I didn’t respond, “I’ve seen a lot in my life. And in that time I have seen a variety of amazing things, some of which has included normal human beings attempting to down two full-size Jamba Juice juice drinks. You, are a woman with a small frame and ergo, a small stomach. I would be willing to bet twenty bucks that there’s no way in hell you’re gonna finish all that’s there.”
The Ricci-ster didn’t look back at me and respond with a look of challenge in her eyes. She didn’t say, “I’ll take that bet, Mister” and start to down the first of two Peach Pleasures. She didn’t down the first one in five minutes flat then grab her head in pain as she blew air out her nose.
She didn’t growl at me, “Brain freeze.”
She didn’t take a break and start in on the second drink, eyeing me the whole entire time. She also didn’t multitask, answering a phone call and telling the person on the other line that she was “a tad busy at the moment” and could she call them back.
She didn’t finish the second one in the next five minutes, and definitely didn’t stand up and approach me with her hand outstretched.
She didn’t grin while she said, “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”
“That’s amazing,” I didn’t say.
“Yes, well — you win some and you lose some,” she didn’t grin. Again, she didn’t shove that open hand towards me and say, “Twenty smackeroos, buddy boy.”
I definitely didn’t hand her a nice crisp twenty out of my wallet, standing beaten and humiliated in front of the rest of the establishment’s customers.
That, my friends, never happened.