As I was leaving, a short, skinny guy with a camera passed me on his way into a small cafe on a well-traveled Beverly Hills street. My nearby doctor's appointment wasn't for another 20 minutes so I got an iced tea and killed some time on the cafe's sidewalk patio.
Out of the blue, there was a moment's notice that something BIG was about to "go down" because two, tinted-windowed mini vans pulled up, tires screeching, and doors sliding open before the vehicles had stopped. Out jumped a group of highly unattractive sweaty looking guys with gigantic cameras all pushing and shoving each other for position-- cameras pointed directly across the street at a building that's the home of a swank eyebrow waxing shop.
Just as the commotion was noticeable to everyone within ear shot, one of the sweaty guys yelled "There. There! THERE!", and the short, skinny guy inside the cafe ran out with camera in hand, faster than a speeding bullet, directly into three lanes of traffic, darting between 35 MPH cars to get to the opposite side of the street.
A hiccup later, Oprah was three steps onto the sidewalk and into her waiting SUV, gone in less than 5 seconds. Yes, that Oprah.
Before I could exhale and process what I'd just seen, the sweaty guys were high fiveing each other as if they'd just seen the seventh wonder of the world. The short, skinny guy was back too, proudly describing his near death experience and the perfect picture of Oprah he repeatedly referred to as his "money shot".
After a few minutes of back slapping and ego boosting, the sweaty guys got back into their minivans, I assume to swoop in on some other unsuspecting celebrity, while the skinny guy strutted around in front of the cafe talking to himself about his "money shot" and how he "nearly got killed" getting it.
Oh yes, he was very proud of himself.
Once skinny guy realized no one was left that saw his incredibly stupid escapades except me, and/or that no one cared, he walked over, his chest pulled out like Superman, and asked if I wanted to see the photo he swore would make him famous and land him a cushy retirement.
No thank you.
*Stare some more.*
And he finally walked away, still talking to himself and counting the bundles of money he was sure he'd just captured on a camera that looked as though it weighed more than he did.
All I could do was wonder if the skinny guy was dropped on his head one too many times as a baby, and how it came to be that I had two Oprah sightings in just a four months.
Welcome to www.TheFiftyFactor.com - Joanna Jenkins
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