My bookclub girls were giddy when James Franco was in town shooting a movie– so I thought I’d write them a story about my experience with him:
“Everyone is asking me about my James Franco sighting. Well- I’m not supposed to mention anything. But I have really good privacy settings on this account, so it will be just between us. So, I was just riding by on my bike in the Ward when I saw the crowd. I’m a bit above the celebrity thing, feeling a bit of a celebrity myself at the YMCA, but I stopped to see what the hubbub was all about. Only for a second, I said to myself. I had a lot of spaghetti for dinner and needed the ride.
That is when he spotted me.
At first I totally thought I was imagining it. Was he looking at me? I was behind the teen girls in their tube tops, in August’s ninja turtle bike helmet. It may have just been for a few seconds, but, by God, if felt like at least 10 to maybe 12 seconds. I was sure it didn’t mean much. Not to him. But to me? Me, I felt something. Stirring. Down there. Middle-aged me. I felt ashamed (Mom- who is my Facebook friend).
I turned away and quickly mounted my bike. Well, that’s when I felt what I can only call “a hand” on my shoulder. It was James Franco’s hand-ler.
James has seen me. Handler makes his way through the crowd.[/caption]
He said to me–and he said it loudly so the whole desperate pathetic crowd could hear–“You are the one. He chooses you. Milady.”
I took this very seriously. It felt like a command I could not refuse. Something long coming.
I said “I have to lock up my bike. It isn’t a good neighbourhood.” He shook his head and threw back his hair. “James will buy you all the bikes you could ever want. He could buy you a golden bike with antler handlebars if you said the word.” And I believed him. He guided me past the barricade towards Jamie’s trailer. I can’t tell you anymore. I promised Jamie.
All I can say is one word. One quiet word, and I’ll be as discreet as I can.
Anal.