Category Archives: Celebrity Sighting

Bush sisters and 500 chopsticks.

Last night I worked a rehearsal dinner for a huge wedding.  Our boss has been talking about this wedding for over a year, so basically put on your best pair of K-mart non slip fake leather grandma loafers… it’s time to bring the big guns.

I looked at the run down for the evening … dinner from 7:00 – 9:00, beets and goat cheese, short ribs, and fruit sundaes for dinner. But then at the bottom I notice the ‘service note’ for the evening. It read


Ok so either someone had a hand cramp and didn’t click spell check, or this was a TRIPLE VIP event.

VVVIP.  Hmm… what do I have to do in my life to surpass the status of VIP and move onward to VVVIP.  At this point if I ever even got an IP I would feel accomplished.

So there were 3 V’s, and 300 people heading our way.

I went into our main ballroom to rally up some silverware.  A lovely little Turkish co-worker comes up to me and whispers in her broken english, “Bush daughter, Barbara. Right there in big poof blue dress.”

What?  Is this little Turkey bundle of joy trying to tell me that little Barbara Bush was in our midst … indeed she was.

I zeroed in on who I though Barbara Bush was, however turns out someone else decided to done a blue poof dress as well, so for ten minutes I was one eyeballing another chick with brown hair who I thought used to roam the White House.  Nope, not Barbara.

Now, as a journalist one would think that I would be familiar with the former president’s daughter, however I wasn’t.  Nobody really was actually.  While I do think I could pick Chelsea Clinton out of a crowd, Barbara Bush Jr. has slipped through my radar.

But eventually I got my brown haired blue dress women straightened out, and there she was.  President Bush’s daughter.  fascinating.  Not really.

One particularly liberal server friend of mine told me that after he dropped Barbara’s plate of ribs down in front of her, he was going to whisper ‘Your Dad stunk as President.  Would you like sauce with those ribs?”

I pulled the whole let me dare you thing and said “You won’t”, and of course, in fact, he really didn’t.

The night pressed on and the small wedding party dinner turned into a beach party with all the guests.

I was on passing duty, and I had my plate stacked with chocolate dipped key lime pie on a stick.  Each pie slice weighs about 6 pounds, and those six pounds go straight onto your left booty cheek after eating it.  And try as I must all night to refrain from indulging in that six pounds of lime lard, I ate one, then immediately regretted it.  But those 12 seconds of eating were the best 12 seconds of my 8 hour shift.

Anyways, as the party expanded so did the Bush family.  Cue: Jenna Bush.

Oh Jenna, with your DUI charge and recent Today Show gig.  Again, as journalist I do envy the her cuddle sessions with Al Roker, but then again I launched my reporting career graduating from a college nobody has ever heard of, while she launched hers from the White House. No big deal, it’s just the White House. (cue me pouting)

But there she was in her white dress and tall heals, and there I was with my plate of pie.  I was walking behind her staring at her blonde hair highlights and all the secrets about the nation they cover.  Then she whipped that secret holding head around and yells ‘HEY!’.

I look over my polyester shoulder, left, right. Yes, she is ‘heying’ at me.

Ah, Yes? I reply.

Do you want to play golf with this guy tomorrow?

I follow her gesture.  There stood a tall, lanky, curly-haired big Adam’s apple man looking at me as confused as I was looking at him.

In true 5 star quality serving fashion I answered with more excitement than I actually feel and say “Sure! Of course I will play golf with you!”  The tall man shrugs, Jenna whips her hair around again, and keeps chattering away seemingly unaware of the question she even asked me. 

Ah.. this is awkward.  And random.  And an ex-first daughter.  How do I handle this situation?  The most natural and un-awkward way possible. 

I offer them key lime pie on a stick.

Blink.  Blink. Sigh.

The group responds with one big ignore session.

Cue awkward turtle.

I walk back to the kitchen, with my pie plate still full, beads of condensation forming on the crunchy chocolate shell, and my loafers trying to avoid all of the Christian Louboutin pumps on the dance floor.

When I get to the back my overly hyper supervisor greets me and my friend with a “HEY!  You two, down to the office!” Complete with some huge unnecessary arm gesture.

My and my blonde bombshell friend trot our little tux bodies to the basement, expecting to get cut early. Score!

We walk into the office, only to be faced with

500 pairs of chopsticks.

Another boss of mine goes “Girls, before you go, can you peel the labels off of every single pair of these chopsticks?”

Um….excuse me?

I pick up a pair and try to get a sticker off.  About one centimeter of the label peels off, leaving a mass amount of sticky residue and paper still plastered to the side.

You have got to be kidding me.  This is going to take all night.

In my slightly spoiled upbringing and very outspoken fashion, I pleaded with everyone in the office that this job is completely unnecessary, and absolutely ridiculous.  One boss just looked at me and said ‘It’s not even worth trying.’ and left us with our massive pile of stickered chopsticks and misery.

We began. 15 min goes by, 20 min, one hour.  The rest of our team that was finishing up upstairs come down.  Alright!  Teamwork, we can knock out this ridiculous and tedious job in ten more min.  They look at our fingers, raw from trying to peel off hundreds of tiny stickers, shake their heads, and make up every excuse possible to get out of that office and leave us to our own peril.

DFKJDHFJHDKFJD.  This was the sound of my frustration at this point.  Another hour goes by, and we have about ten boxes left.  My overly excited supervisor comes down to our chopstick hell, and says ‘Your not done yet?!”

I almost jabbed a chopstick into his right eye.

He picks one up and begins trying to peel the wrapper off with his pudge fingers.

“What!  This is Ca-Ca!”  He exclaims. 

That is what were trying to explain two hours and 480 chopstick sets ago.

Alright, he says, go home.


I literally just completed the most pointless job of all time.  My dark purple manicured nails were chipped, and my thumbs were cramping in ways never before thought possible.  But I was released, and at that point it was all I cared about.  My loafers somehow led me to my car, after a long night of Jenna Bush and Chopsticks.

Whoever ate with those plastic sushi picking up devices better appreciate them and their sticker free glory.

And lets hope we didn’t slap swine flu all over them.


Just another day on the job.


Celeb Sightings: These blasts from the past are sure to tickle your fancy.

There is a foofy poofy golf event that went on at the hotel over the weekend, called The ADT Skills Challenge.  Doesn’t that just send shivers of excitement down your spine? Blah.  For some that may seem like an amazing weekend of fine dining and golf playing bliss.  For me all I can think about is how one time while parking in a designated and required employee parking space, a golf ball came whirling through the air and dented my Toyota, only to have the golf ball hitter yell at me for picking up his ball, off the hood of my car.

Golfer “Thats my ball!”

Me  “This is my car.”


That dent still lives there proud and strong.  The hotel pretends like they will pay for it, sending out a security guard to take notes and pics.  Lies.  Golf ball lies.

So besides my bitterness over white plastic round objects, the golf tournament is good for one thing.


OK all you Perez Hilton fans, add my name to your blogroll because I am about to blow you away with the amazing celeb sightings encountered only mere hours ago.

Was it the infamous Brangelina duo? with their 87 kids tucked in Angelina’s oversized Hermès Birkin bag?



Remember the show…Fresh Prince of Bell Air?  Who could forget that crab.  Art, true art.

OMG did you I Will Smith?



Remeber the Fresh Prince’s annoying short and chubby cousin?

BINGO!  We have a Carlton sighting on our hands.


And who could forget this little diddy!

And yes ladies, he did whip that dance out on the dance floor, and yes I did faint in lust.


Sighting number 2.

So….remember Seinfield?

Did I see Jerry himself?

No. Better.

Remember Mr. Peterman, Elaine’s extremely awkward boss? 

Yes, there he was in all his white-haired glory.

I don’t even know his name… but I do know his fame. Whoot!

Can you say sexy?

And yes ladies, this IS the current host of Family Feud,  a show I know ALL of you readers out there ti-vo on a daily basis.


Alright so how is that for A-list celeb sightings on the grand island of Palm Beach?

Don’t you all be jealous now of these amazing encounters.

Loves it and Loves you.

Styx pays a visit to Palm Beach … and brings awkward 80’s hair groupies.

So the entertainment for the night was going to be the band Styx.  Sweet…. who are they?

I know I know… shame on me for being not born yet when the band hits their peak.  But after forcing a couple co workers to awkwardly sing some lyrics, I at once knew who there were.  So, for all you 1987’ers who may be a little foggy on their Styx knowledge, please see the following video.  It probably will ring a bell … and make you wish you were alive and kicking via 1977 when this little number topped the charts:


Amazing, love those white linen pants.  If you look close enough you can tell that those long hair beauties are indeed men.

So the rock band sets up, huge stage, huge event.  Despite the border line tacky slash amazing rock band now made up of old dad’s, the dinner and decor was nothing but superb as the hotel always manages to pull off.

Cocktail hour begins.  With my black tie tied oh so tight and my hair already a frizzy mess, I begin to serve.  The guests are in there black tie best, long gown, suits. 

But then a couple minutes into the wine and dine session, I began noticing some people that just didn’t …well look right.

There hair was a little too long, and a little too mullety.

Instead of looking like 5 star class, you could see Zubaz sticking out of there orange tuxedo pants..  Basically, a couple of these guys drifted in. 
(while looking for a hot picture of Zubaz, I came across the Zubaz website. Yes, they have a website, and yes, you can still buy them.  This is probably the most important piece of information I have ever written out.  Zubaz are still very much alive and thriving.  If you would like to own a pair, or check out some hot Zubaz pics, click here.) 

So after my manager approached and removed men stuck in 1985, with there Styx tattoos poking out of there cut off t-shirts, the party resumed.

Don’t ask me how these guys even found out about the Styx concert let alone got into the hotel. Maybe there is some sort of a classic rock band light signal that flashes in the sky like Batman.  Maybe there is an underground classic rock society that meets in caves and drinks beers from cans and whips there long hair around and shows off there guitar pics they caught at that super rad concert they went to in 1986 before there favorite band broke up and with it broke their hearts. Maybe.

Anyways, dinner was served, and desert came and went.  There was a dull chatter among the crowd.  If you listened close you could hear far to many stories about there Styx experiences, back in the good ol’ days.

Then, it happened.

The lights went out.  The stage lit up.  The women, with there Versace gowns and silicone chests, jumped out of there chairs and began screaming like they 16 again. 

And then, Styx emerges.

What do you think they look like these days?  Has there hair gotten smaller, or there clothes a little classier? 

No.  They were still rockin it Styx style.  For example, here is a then and now photo comparison: 





As you can see, the hair still flows in the wind, the leather is still plastered to their body’s, and the moustaches still make onlookers uncomfortable. Ew moustaches.

So as the Palm Beachers were day dreaming about the night they first kissed Tommy in the back of his Trans-Am Firebird, I began feeling the Styx vibes myself. 

It was an amazing concert, and even more amazing to see these men rocking it out like they never went out of style.  Truly talented and truly entertaining, I will now forever be a Styx lover.

So the show wraps up, and my manager orders me to go clean out a conference room.

I walk in, and I discover that I have entered… STYX DRESSING ROOM.

I then too drifted back to the memories of my very first concert, my hair bigger than Texas and freshly permed, my Styx t-shirt on, and ripped jean cut offs…and making out with Tommy in the back of his Delorean after the show, with fruit punch wine cooler on our breath.

Ok that never happened but a girl can dreammmmmm.

So I start picking up the room.  I see some Organic Herbal throat-coat tea, so necessary for a rocking band like Styx.

I also see half eaten sandwhiches, a pile of un-touched cookies and a half drinken coke.  Maybe they prefer Tab soda

I also find shirt tags, newly ripped off.  I couldn’t help but check out how much it costs to look as fab as Styx. 

One t-shirt- size small- was over one hundred bucks! Bah.  Who knew it cost so much to look so …. grungy.

Ok, then, as I rounded the corner, I found the strangest thing of all….

it was a big ….huge…. pile of …….

OK so to the one person who gave a guess (Love you Kristinaaa!)

Ha!  The answer is…


Styx had a massive pile of used bandaids and bandaid wrappers.


Overheard: Woman straddles Aretha Franklin

I was working some Palm Beach socialite event, and I overheard this amazing story.  It was too good not to share! I wish I had my own stories like this to share but instead I just write about other peoples experiences in my pathetic blog. What? Moving on…

This Palm Beach socialite was just casually talking to one of her other… socialite friends.

She was wearing her LBD ( that’s a ‘little black dress’ for those of you who don’t accidentally read fashion magazines like I may or may not do from time to time…..ahem. Accident.)

Her lips were overly plumped, perhaps with fat taken from her buttock (people actually do that!  Then if they ever tell someone to ‘kiss their butt’, there are a variety of places to choose from!)

Her hair was bigger then that of a Texan woman’s…and, stealing a line from a guilty pleasure movie Mean Girls,  it was so big because it was  full of secrets.  I always look for those big, secret holding coifs and try to listen in on their conversations.  Much more entertaining then watching the same band sing the same Black Eye Peas songs over and over again…and much more calorie friendly then shoving bacon wrapped scallops in my mouth behind a curtain.

Anyways, I overheard this story and just loved it.

Big Hair LBD Woman:  So, I was at this movie premier the other day in LA.   Every one was there, it was hot.  We started taking our seats in these long rows set up.  All of a sudden, Aretha Franklin comes and sits RiGhT at the end of our row!  We were all star struck…but then we realized….we were also all STUCK!  Love her, but the woman is big and to go around her would be a feat. 

Visual Aid:


Prescious soul that she is.  Love herrrr…

So the movie and the presentation rolls on..and people started needing drinks or to pee and so on.  They would look around awkwardly and weigh their options.  Go all the way down this huge long row, waving their lipo butt in front of everyone’s sculpted noses, and trip over everyone’s Christian Louboutin shoes.  OR!  Option two…a short route that ends with a climb over mount Aretha.  Everyone chose option one and took the long route.

So, I was low on martini and needed a refill and a potty break.  I saw how everyone had made a fool of themselves walking down the entire row…and I said I choose option two!  I will take on the Aretha.  So, I walked a couple seats over and I said to Queen Aretha…’Miss Aretha.  I mean no dis- R.E.S.P.E.C.T…but I need to get out.  And there is no way but up and over ‘yo big self!”

And she said to me in her deep famous voice “Baby…if you can get over me…more power to ya!”

And so this woman and her way to tiny dress begins to work her way across Aretha Franklin.  At one point she got stuck and was in a full force straddle with the queen of soul, her dress hikied up so far in was inappropriate for even LA.  IT was then Arethra belted out “I have never loved a man the way I love you.”  And then…’You make me feel like a natural woman. Wommannnnn.”  The LBD woman shot back “It isn’t, it wasn’t, it ain’t never gonna be.”

So, remember on the playground when you used to play spider on the swings?  This big haired socialite played spider….with Aretha Franklin. (Ok so I tried to find a picture to demonstrate the spider swing but found nothing but teenage girls being little harlots on the swings for the video camera and boy behind it.  BUT  I did find this…and just thought I would add it)

Eventually the woman made it over the road block, and the world kept on turning.  Aretha got a little love, and the woman got another story she could put in her vault under her pompadour. 

The LBD woman made a human bridge …over troubled water. Amen. Holla.

Celebrity Sighting: Gloria Estefan Smells like an Angel…what?

Sometimes people or companies have a lot of money…so they hire singers to put on full blown concerts for their event.  This event was a fundraiser for the Everglades National Park.  It was decorated amazingly…there were beautiful flower moss nature-ish centerpieces…etc.  AND there was…GLORIA ESTEFAN!

 CUE: Conga music that makes me shake my tuxedo covered tail feather.

Come on , shake your body baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Come on , shake your body baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer


With that blaring in my ears all night, I was instantly a happy server.

ANYWAYS….. backstage.  There she was.  Her hair, extra curly, extra bouncy.  Her height…very short.  I walked by her and BAM!

The chick…smelled like an angel.  Her scent was like the most lovely fragrant flowers mixed with your mom cooking Christmas cookies, a side of fresh baby and a hint of love.

And that is the entire point of this post.  To inform the world….that Gloria Estefan smells good.

The. End.
And whatever perfume she wears…the world would be a better place if we all bought some.

Celebrity Sighting: Every Republican who has ever been on Fox News, Democratic Wedding Party has fit.

Rush Limbaugh lives on Palm Beach, so naturally, when he wants to have a little get together he rents out  a massive ballroom at the hotel, and throws a party like no other.   I dressed in my tuxedo, sighing and internally whining,  knowing that yet another shift was looming my way.  But some nights whe you show up at work, a delicious little surprise greets you, making the night so much more bearable. Your supervisors, it a half hushed tone, tell you that someone famous was going to be there.  Instantly you perk up, and begin to convince yourself that you actually like your job.

So, in his secretive, dramatic, and hushed fashion my supervisor informed us that it was Rush Limbaugh’s party, and a lot of very well-to-do people were going to be there…aka every famous Republican in the country.

The party was lavish, most of it already set up,  with rented plates, tablecloths, and glasses.  Nice, less work for us! At every place setting there is a box with a chocolate square in it, with Rush’s signature written on it…in chocolate.  I may or may not have snagged one and kept it in my freezer…just saying.

The crowd starts pouring in.  Mike Huckabee and Anne Coulter burst through the doors.  I gasp.   Anne looked especially tall and skinny in person…she may have resembled an alien… and Mike Huckabee looked round and jolly like a sweet old Grandpa that buys you nice Christmas gifts and takes you to his condo in Naples.  I was still in awe.  I went up and offered Anne, a drink, just to brag to people later that I talked to her.  She ordered…..drum roll….this is very exciting….a diet coke with no ice.  No ice.  Our diet coke is warm.  Ew.

I got the alien her warm coke, and, again using my waitressing  powers for selfish reasons, I grabbed a plate of mini cheeseburgers and headed over to the big Rush himself.  He ate two.  Sah-weet.

But the most interesting part of the night was not the cheeseburger warm coke handouts, rather the wedding that was also booked at the hotel that night.  When a lady from the wedding party realized that there was a whole room of Republicans lurking near her very liberal wedding celebration, she flipped.  She insisted the wedding party be re-routed in the hotel to avoid the evilness that all Republicans have lurking inside of them.  She was yelling. And I was entertained.

Just another day on the job…