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  • Paul Davidson

The Sarah Michelle Factor

Things came to a head this past weekend.

Some of you may remember the Freddie Prinze, Jr. situation where our burgeoning friendship was stunted as a result of three things.

1. Freddie wouldn’t vocalize that we were “best friends.” 2. Freddie was being fed subliminal information telling him that being my “best friend” may not be in his best interests. 3. Sarah Michelle Gellar is the anti-Christ.

Since the blowup at the coffee shop earlier this summer, I had pretty much resigned myself to the idea that the friendship was over along with all our development work on a particular TV sitcom project we had called The Boyz of Gurlock. The Boyz of Gurlock is a horror/comedy about a group of friends on a bachelor party weekend who end up getting turned into zombies but still want to have fun. It tells the weekly story about these 20-something zombie bachelor party buddies and the havoc they cause around Las Vegas. It was damn good.

A few weeks ago, you may remember me mentioning that I had run into Sarah Michelle Gellar at a sushi restaurant here in Los Angeles. She was, to say the least, off-putting. Sitting in a corner, the farthest away she could have possibly been from me, the girl ingnored all my silent hand motions of peace — instead, choosing to even ask the proprietor to put up one of those hospital separator cloths so she didn’t have to see me. I threw a chunk of wasabe at her (yes, childish I know) and stormed out of the joint.

This past weekend, you won’t believe what happened. I was patronizing my favorite Los Angeles Karaoke haunt, The Brass Monkey and was there on early Saturday afternoon with a few friends. We usually head out there in the afternoon, have some drinks and food and then hang until the karaoke starts in the evening. And once that gets going, let me tell you, it’s out of control. Celebrities have been known to frequent the place because it is so out of the way and people don’t accost them there, but Freddie and Sarah had never been there. Course, I’d mentioned it to FPJ on more than one ocassion.

That evening, my name had been called to get up and sing around 9:15pm (the show starts around 9pm, so since I had been there early I had my name come up pretty quick) and had settled on singing one of my trademark songs, “You May Be Right” by Billy Joel. I jumped up from my seat upon hearing my name called, downed the rest of my Rolling Rock and moved up to the stool at the front of the room, grabbing the microphone in hand. And just as the MC was about to start the song — FPJ and Sarah Michelle walked in the front door.

I was like a deer in headlights.

Freddie looked at me and our eyes met. There was a moment of recognition. Of course, immediately, I could see Sarah Michelle elbow him in the ribs to which he turned and looked at her. She made silent mention of me, and the two of them looked at me with disdain. She turned FPJ’s immediate surprise at seeing me into an immediate uncomfortability factor. She had some hold on this guy, I thought.

Sarah Michelle grabbed his arm and tried to turn him around. But I was fast thinking in this situation, as you have to be when you’re singing karaoke anyway (you never know when a word or phrase will turn yellow, directing you to sing highlighted phrase) and so I turned to the MC and whispered a change.

Just as FPJ and Sarah Michelle were about to reach the steps to walk out of the joint, “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers” by Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand started to play on the speakers. The two stopped dead in their tracks. Why? Sarah Michelle LOVES Barbra. How do I know this? FPJ and I once had a conversation about how insane Barbra is with her special concert lighting and fear of performing and how Sarah Michelle felt some kind of connection with Barbra because she too, had this fear of performing and Barbra’s way helped her get through all those seasons of Buffy.

Well, I started to sing the Neil Diamond part and grabbed the second microphone and reached out with it towards Sarah Michelle.

“Sarah,” I said. “Neil Diamond wants to sing with you.”

Part of me, had you told me I would be saying anything remotely like this ahead of time, would have told you that you were crazy… Let alone, me. But at that moment a change came across Sarah Michelle’s face and she dropped FPJ’s hand at her side. A gleam or some reflection shone off her colored-contacts and she took two steps towards me, unsure.

I waved for her to come join me. The blue highlighted words for Neil were almost up. The pink highlighted words for Barbra were just seconds away.

And just in time, Sarah Michelle jumped to the stage, grabbing the microphone and singing her heart out alongside me as FPJ watched from a table in the back. He smiled, as did Sarah Michelle, throughout the whole song. It was, as far as I was concerned, the start of a new chapter in our triad-relationship. FPJ, Sarah Michelle and me. Visions of The Boyz of Gurlock came flashing back to me. Zombies, strippers and all-you-can-eat buffets. We were going to be stars.

And as the song ended, and FPJ joined Sarah Michelle at my side — she leaned in to whisper something to me. Much like that moment at the end of Lost in Translation, she leaned close and told me something that no one else could hear. When she finished, she grabbed FPJ and they stormed out of the joint.

I was, to say the least, extremely confused. But, then again — it’s the Sarah Michelle factor. There is no rhyme or reason to the woman’s actions. She is altogether crazy, sweet, adorable, feisty, funny, outgoing and jealous. In the end, there was only one thing I was 100% sure about…

The Boyz of Gurlock is never going to see the light of day.

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