Paris Hilton- Up Close and Personal

I had made the reservation weeks ago. Tao was the hot spot I wanted to check out while in Vegas. I read my trashy celebrity gossip magazines at the gym and felt confident about my decision.

Tao didn’t disappoint.

“Oh my God! You guys- there are paparazzi parked outside the restaurant. Hundreds of them!!!” Lucy tried to whisper but I’m sure the entire dining room overhead her excitement.
“Really? Who’s here?” I asked scooping out the place a second time.
“I don’t know but it’s got to be someone big!” she said.
“Maybe it’s the dude in the turquoise T-shirt with the parrot decal on his shoulder.” Martin added sarcastically.
Martin is one of my best friends. He’s gay and VERY fashion sensitive. The parrot decal guy had been the butt of his jokes all evening.

“Okay, Lucy. Don’t move!!” gasped John, Lucy’s fiancé.

And then I saw her. Paris Hilton in the flesh.
She glanced over her shoulder and then continued to sashay through the dining room. She was closely followed by her three bodyguards. She was headed straight for us!

Our table sat frozen.
Everyone else reached for their camera phones.
At the last moment- when she was two feet away she did a quick “flip turn” –probably something one of her beauty coaches taught her- and gave an enormous wet kiss to Parrot Decal Boy.
Martin shook his head. “I called that.”

Aside from the bright red satin dress she wore Paris Hilton looked like anybody else. She wasn’t nearly as tall or as thin as I expected. She also wasn’t this incredible knock-out I thought she would be. She was definitely pretty- but if she weren’t Paris Hilton I’m not sure she would get any more attention than all of the other attractive blondes in the room.

“Wow, her hair is longer than I expected,” I whispered.
“Hair extensions,” Martin replied.
We continued to sit and stare.
John casually grabbed his camera.
“Don’t make it obvious,” Lucy said.
Sure. Who wouldn’t take a picture of part of their friends' shoulder and Paris’ rear end?
Not obvious at all.

In truth, it was very surreal.
I imagined she would be encircled by some sort of a celebrity glow. I imagined she would look better in real life than the pictures. I imagined I would feel different just being around someone that famous.
But I didn’t.
And I almost felt sorry for her. I love attention- but who could handle that all of the time?
How do you go out and get any privacy?
I think it would be exhausting.
But she seemed to revel in it.
And that’s great.

What’s also great is that the up close experience taught me something. It made me realize that although I’m within 5 feet of what many consider an American Icon, I’m still very comfortable in my own seat.