On Wednesdays, Amanda Chatel will be sharing stories about her strange, fascinating and sometimes wonderful dating life. If it makes you want to date, check out TheGloss dating page.
I love this story. It’s pretty awesome and comes from a regular reader and commenter. So as to keep her identity, as well as the celebrity’s, hush-hush, I have decided to call her Julie Cakes. Here’s Julie Cake’s tale about her celebrity date.
It was a not-really-a-holiday-but-kind-of weekend. Bastille Day, let’s say. It was Bastille Day weekend, and I was doing nothing when my friend called.
“I have someone here and he really wants to meet you,” she said. Single women know that 99% of the time the correct response to this is an eye-roll. That’s what I did. ”Come on, come out with us. He’s really cute,” she begged. And then she mumbled something into the phone.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s (celebrity name).”
“WHAT?!” I’m not going to tell you who this person is for reasons that will become clear later, but you would absolutely, 100% know the name. And the face. And probably the torso. He’s in movies. A/B+ list, I think. Mostly he’s handsome, and that was the draw for me.
My friend and her husband had met Celebrity in a professional capacity a few months ago and were now seeing him socially. I’ve always thought of myself as someone unaffected by famous people, but it turns out that I’m very affected! I threw on a dress and ran out to meet them. I mentioned he was handsome; he is so very handsome, as in lose-your-train-of-thought handsome. And high. At 9pm on Bastille Day. Coked out of his MIND.
We went to dinner. He talked for an hour and a half straight while making nonstop eye-contact. It was strange, but he started to calm down so we went out for drinks. We had to leave a couple bars because photographers showed up outside, which was surreal. He must have re-upped his high because he passed “jittery” and went to “insane” on the way to the third bar.
He took his shirt off for no reason. He tried to climb a brick wall in an alley, and I think he would have managed it with his Cocaine Superpowers if my friend’s husband hadn’t pulled him down. He stole a stranger’s hat off his head and kept it. And talking, talking; always talking. Did we want to do a line? No? That’s cool. Hey, did we want to do a line? Were we sure? It was like being out with a three-year-old on a sugar bender who happened to have a credit card.
On the way back, he jumped into a car that had pulled up alongside us out of nowhere. I thought he was being kidnapped, until I realized that I was watching him spend five grand on more coke. I was scared we’d all get arrested, or that photographers would catch us. I didn’t know what would have been worse.
At the beginning of the night I had wondered: If the opportunity came up, so to speak, would I sleep with him? By the time I said goodnight that “probably” had turned into a flat NO. He was still trying to make it happen, though. He tried to make my leaving into a big romantic moment, but it wasn’t. He tried to kiss me and I brushed him off. He seemed shocked by that. He had texted me dozens of times by the next morning. My friend had given him my number. (Thanks, friend!)
This story is crazy, but it’s also depressing. When it comes to drug use on this scale, there are two general groups: the people who do it because they want to have lots of fun, and the people who do it because they don’t want to be sad anymore. Celebrity was definitely in the latter group. He was obviously a nice, sort of isolated guy who had fallen into a drugs-and-partying pit and didn’t know how to get out. He talked so much about wanting to quit the industry and move, how he didn’t have real friends, how he wanted to be “worthy” of a real relationship like my friends have. Even if it was mostly coke talk, it was desperately sad coke talk.
This story has a happy ending, because Celebrity went to rehab and he’s sober now. I’ll think very hard about going on future dates with any guy I’ve seen on billboards.
Have you been out on date with a celebrity with Cocaine Superpowers, too? Or maybe a date that’s less than exciting, yet you still want to share it? Please do: firstname.lastname@example.org