You’d think it would be difficult to find a silver lining for those hair-raising, shoulder-hunching, face-cringing moments of embarrassment in life…but I have. When they happen so regularly, you have to. My silver lining is that in time (sometimes a very long time) they will make a good story. Seeing as story-telling is also my meal-ticket, this is rather convenient for me. Who knew you could get paid for being a tit?!
So there I was, at the LA Greek Film Festival; a glittering event on Sunset Boulevard, dressed in my chic little white dress and painfully high heels, grinning and mingling. It was opening night and I was on an absolute high, meaning I was a little more animated than usual…you should know that ‘usual’ could pass for a circus act and often scares little children. There were even a couple of celebrities, so I strategically placed myself between the entrance and the red carpet. I knew about two people there but was doing my best to tally up new acquaintances. So you can imagine how excited I was to see a familiar face! Peter, a client from the company I used to work for in Greece. I hadn’t seen him in about three years, but I always remembered him because he was also from South Africa and he used to tease me about anything related to that, like how much I liked biltong – a spiced dry meat.
So, riding my wave of excitement I rush over to him and squeal hello! In my defense, I had been in the States for a couple of weeks and had had very little contact with home. I got a leetle excited. I hug and kiss him and make a big fuss, like I’m greeting a sibling torn away from me during war, now reunited in a spectacular finale. Naturally he’s a little flustered, so I step back to jog his memory, “It’s me! Biltong Girl!” I announce. “Oh yes!” he smiles, “how are you?”. He then introduces me to his young daughter who is accompanying him. I continue with my giddy conversation, “So what are you doing here?” I gush, “Oh I try to support every year,” he explains. The last I knew, he was living in Greece. “So you’re based in LA now?” He furrows his brow a little and replies, “Yes, for several years now”. I continue to chatter like a monkey, barely stopping for a breath and when his eyes start darting around (presumably for an escape route) I gracefully let him go and assure him that “We’ll catch up at the after-party!”
Fast forward to a few hours later. I’m at the after-party, leaning over the bar waiting for my drink, when I see Peter in the distance. I’m about to start waving frantically when I’m hit with a spontaneous, mind-splitting moment of brilliant clarity: it’s not Peter. It’s not Peter at all. It’s Tony Dimera from Days of Our Lives!
Oh sweet Jesus. That would explain why I recognized him! It wasn’t from real-life, but from those distant teenage years of watching him on television (he did have a striking resemblance to Peter though). But the worst is not over. As my hand, mid-wave, lowers itself to the bar, my eyes widen as I replay the afternoon encounter…no wonder he didn’t recognize me! And I asked him all those stupid questions, like whether he lived in LA…well yes! Considering he’s a famous soap opera actor!! Ten minutes I rambled on and on, the hugs, the kisses, the…oh my God…I introduced myself as Biltong Girl!!! Biltong Girl?! He doesn’t even know what biltong is!! Seeing as he’s from LA, not South Africa, not Greece. What kind of an unstoppable moron calls themselves Biltong Girl?! To anyone! Let alone a TV celebrity! By now I have buried my face in my hands and have ordered another drink. He must have thought I was a complete lunatic, but he politely sat and spoke with me while all the normal people sat on the sidelines.
I avoided him for the rest of the night and learnt two valuable lessons:
1. You can talk to anyone in the world if you are convinced enough that you know them
2. There is never a good time to call yourself “Biltong Girl”. Ever.
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