My last night in Chongqing

On my last night in Chongquig (China’s sixth largest city, with a metropolitan population of 32 million), I went to a movie theater that specialized in American films. The theater was playing The Yellow Handkerchief (2008), of all things. I liked the movie when I saw it in the States, but to find it over here was something else. When it ended and I was making my way up the aisle, a head taller than anyone around me, someone pointed at me and said, “William Hurt.”

I’ve been told many times that I look like Hurt. Or, by those of my friends who are more sensitive, that Hurt looks like me. I was the only European in the room and the next thing that I knew, I was surrounded by inquisitive movie-goers. Unfortunately, my Madarin was completely inadequate to the task of setting everyone straight.

Long story short, two groupies attached themselves to me and I couldn’t get shut of them. They both looked 60+, which probably meant that they were 70+. I had to pay the full price for my false fame that night before I was able to get out of my hotel and catch my plane to Tokyo.

Picnic with Megan Fox

I was walking through a park in Paris this morning and saw Megan Fox sleeping on a blanket on the grass. She was on her stomach with her head on her hands, facing away from me. I circled her quietly once and then sat down between her and the sidewalk. I took out a yellow legal pad and wrote QUIET PLEASE. MEGAN FOX IS SLEEPING on it.

Although I wrote the warning in English, I figured that the French park-goers who passed would probably be able to read it. That’s one reason I capitalized it.

Before long, two girls stopped and one of them said, “Eez zat Megan Fox?” I told her it was. “Who are you?” she asked. I told her that I was Megan’s agent, just so she’d pay attention to the warning on my pad.

A small crowd formed. Then some young wiseacre said, “Zat eez not the Megan Fox!” I told him to hush. Instead, he put two fingers in his mouth and emitted a shrill whistle. Then he shouted “MEGAN!”

Megan┬ácame up on her elbows and looked at us. She was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with LVMH on it. She said something in French, which I thought was sort of cool. The young wiseacre answered her. She looked at me, said something that I didn’t catch, got up, and grabbed her blanket. I asked her for her autograph. She walked off over the grass. The crowd dispelled, if dispel can be intransitive; otherwise, Fox’s departure dispelled the crowd.

Megan is the fourth hot young star I’ve seen in the park this week.