Oh, right. Celebrities live here, too.

(Rick, write your own account of this before you read mine so we can have dueling anecdotes!)

***

Some time back, Rick and I were driving along and I saw a billboard that screamed, "Val Kilmer is Moses."

"Real, or the Onion?" I said.

Real, of course. This is LA. And if a musical about the Ten Commandments opens in LA, of course it's going to have a movie actor at the helm.

This was ha-ha funny and funny-strange both at once, and that's about where it ended for me, until I found myself with a ticket to opening night. (Long boring story deleted). So there Rick and I are in front of the Kodak Theater in Hollywood, where they host the freakin' Oscars, standing in a sea of humanity trying to figure out how the hell to get into the building. We see signs for press, VIPs, will-call, and are looking around in a confused manner when a staffer unlocks the gate and asks anyone holding tickets in their hands to come forward.

We do. "I haven't seen ones like this before," the bouncer says.

"Uh. I bought them from Ticketmaster," replies Rick. The bouncer looks again and waves us through.

This is about when we notice that we're standing on a red carpet, flashbulbs are popping all around us, and papparazi are crying, "Andy! Andy! Over here!" because Andy Dick is standing in front of us mugging for cameras.

Rick and I share a panicked look and scurry towards the building.

"What just happened?" I say. "Did we accidentally go in the VIP entrance?"

"Maybe that's why he's not used to seeing Ticketmaster tickets."

"But this does seem like the main entrance to the theater."

"Well, let's just keep on walking until someone stops us."

We continue along the red carpet, trying not to betray ourselves as the un-famous rubes we are, and soon enter the theater. The theater is inside a mall (!!) and while the path upstairs to it is roped off, the side areas by the stores are full of tourists with cameras. Taking pictures of *us*, like we must be famous because we're there.

This seems like a good time to mention that we're dressed corporate casual, as would be appropriate for the theater in Boston. Nine out of ten people around us are in full suit/ballgown formalwear.

"Everyone will just think we're so rich and famous we don't care how we look," I say, hopefully.

"Not everyone's dressed up."

"No, that guy's wearing Chucks, so I guess we're alright." At which point, someone with the Chuck-clad guy turns around and says, "It's okay. He's a rock star."

Facetious? True? Wishful thinking? No way of knowing.

There was really nothing else to do before the show except stand around the lobby people-watching like a couple of starf*ckers, still disoriented by all those camera flashes. Soon, I was to utter the LA Quote of the Night:

"Think of it this way. While 99% of the people here have more money than we do, I can only assume most of them aren't famous...although there's Gary Coleman."

Yes, this was a veritable cavalcade of the B-list. Rick also saw some actors he recognized from, no lie, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

Since opening night tickets weren't any more expensive than any other night, part of me wants to try this again with some other play and see if it's a similar experience. Most of me, however, is simply very glad I'm not famous. Even if some tourists from Kansas now think I am.