Confessions of A Naughty Girl

You Looked Great in Kuffs!

In 1992, I went to see the movie "Kuffs" with two of my good friends at the time, Annie and Sara. The movie, starring Christian Slater and Milla Jovovich, was about some private investigator guy with a grudge that had a lot of sex with Milla. And I think there were bad guys in it or something also. But the main point being that I dragged my very good friends there to see The Man I Believed I Would Marry - Mr. Slater.

On Thursday, I headed to a business lunch at the Capital City Grille in Atlanta, and had the good fortune of sitting approximately three feet away from none other than Mr. Christian Slater, who was at the Next. F*cking. Table. No joke. I about died when the maitre'd sat us next to Mr. Pump Up The Volume and his companion, who appeared to be a James Lipton-wannabe reporter with wiry-glasses and a head so bald I'm pretty sure his real name is "Eagle".

I couldn't believe my luck - was today the day that I was going to meet my fate? Would I be known as "KA Slater" from this day forward? Would I have to sell my house? Was I ready to deal with the freshly-divorced Mr. Slater and be willing to take his two kids from a previous marriage as my own? Would he get along with my cat? Is he a missionary-style man? Would I have to adopt kinky sex practices and a collection of La Perla (paid for by Mr. Slater) to satiate his deviant celebrity appetite?

The truth is, I'm a confident girl, but I don't think I could nail an A-List Celebrity. I don't even have the patience or the energy to pretend that I don't care about their fame. I'm too transparent, and I suspect that my licking every camera that came within five feet of me might very well give away any motives, should I ever date a Big Deal.

But B- and C-List Celebrities? Same motive - to get as much press coverage as possible. Together, my B-List celebrity boyfriend and I could invent a new type of French kiss. One that involves cameras and stage makeup and a red velvet rope. Plus, they're way more accessible and vulnerable to manipulation. And I've met plenty of them, too:

• 1996: See John Bobbitt at a mall in Las Vegas.
• 2000: Shake hands with and talk to Gavin Rossdale (although since then, he's crossed into A-List, right?) after following his tour bus to Millett Hall on a college tour after Microbiology class
• 2000: Meet Ed Burns at Central Park while on Spring Break and loudly announce that I am single, which promptly earned me an eye roll from Mr. Burns (and also which was a lie, as Boyfriend at time was simply not in New York with me)
• 2003: See Tom Arnold at P.J. Clarke's on State/Division in Chicago. Send over a bottle of wine because it's funny, only to have the waiter return it due to Arnold being a recovering alcoholic (whoops). Arnold buys drinks and dessert for myself and group of friends, asks friend and I to meet up with his crew later (we did not), and told me I had "a nice rack".
• 2006: Meet Jackee Harry of "227" fame at network presentation. Take Polaroid as souvenir. Literally - Polaroid. Apparently if you're of 80's fame, you still capture fan pictures with Polaroids.
• 2006: Stand outside valet at Westin Buckhead and strike up conversation with Cam'ron and Juelz Santana. Take picture on camera phone with Cam'ron. Promptly revitalize dream of being a Fly Girl.

Which brings us to Christian. I contemplated running up to his table and asking for an autograph, but that seemed lame. I contemplated calmly dropping by the table and telling him I loved him in "Kuffs", but thought he might think I was making a mockery of him. Unfortunately, I had to act like a consummate professional (and I didn't have my Polaroid on me) so I simply ate my lunch and spent 45 minutes staring at Christian Slater's 1993 Gap jeans and blue suede Pumas. And then I was hit with a wave of shallowness - suppose Mr. Slater and I did hit it off and fornicate and cohabitate and possibly marry. Beyond the fame, beyond the money, beyond all of the AG Club jeans my little heart could handle - could I really deal with a B-List celebrity who peaked in 1989 and dresses like Soul Asylum until the pre-nup conditions wore off?

Mr. Slater, you looked great in Kuffs, but unfortunately for you, French kuffs are out. Best of luck with your career.

posted by KA @ 8:34 PM