If there's one thing about my day job that's consistent, it's that it's never the same day twice. At various times in my career, I've found myself running out at 3am to film childbirth, coaxing crazy brides to cry on camera, and once, paying (bribing?) a turtle watcher's society to allow my crew to film a fragrance bottle on a beach in Florida.
So it was just another day...ya know, interviewing celebs on the red carpet at the premiere for Woody Allen's new movie (feigned yawn here). I don't want to say I'm unimportant, but my placement was so far down the press line that the only ones further away from all the action was a team of pre-teen reporters covering it for kids. In rapid fire succession, the teeny boppers ace me out for the likes of Robert DeNiro, Debra Messing and Uma Thurman.
And then came Harvey Keitel.
I half-heartedly call out to him to stop for me, but why bother? That 12-year-old with the braces clearly has this one sewn up, right? But then he comes charging towards me, and I could've never predicted what would happen next.
The iconic tough guy movie star grabs me by my face, plants a giant kiss on my mouth, and walks away.
Say what?!
As I'm still gathering myself together, I'm realizing my camera man (a student, I might add, at his first movie premiere EVER) has gotten it all on tape. I'm freaked! And sure enough, every frame is captured, right there for the world, ok, like 10 people in my office, to see. And though I love to write about pop culture, I just figured this was a cute little incident to laugh about over margaritas with my friends.
But then I ended up in the NY Observer. The pop culturer is now the pop culturee!!! And I quote...
Just as Mr. Spurlock was speaking, Harvey Keitel and wife Daphna Kastner were walking down the carpet without stopping for anyone. Until, that is, a female reporter from a curious travel website called Citybuzz blocked his path, holding her mike out, and begging with her big eyes for him to stop and perhaps say something interesting. Mr. Keitel, seeing this, began to speed up, walking directly towards the eager reporter. Then he thrust his hands forward, grabbed her face, and planted an open-mouth kiss, before walking away and not saying a word.
"Did that really just happen?" the reporter asked her camera guy.
"Yeah, and I got it on tape!" the cameraman replied.
"I would have rather gotten an interview," grumbled the reporter, before packing up her equipment and leaving.
Thank you, NY Observer reporter Irina Aleksander, for calling my eyes big, though I'm not sure they were so much begging as bloodshot. And I'm pretty sure I didn't actually grumble. The rest, however, was true, except the path blocking part. But don't take my word for it. Here it is, in bright and shiny video!
Thank you, Mr. Keitel, for giving new meaning to the words, 'viral video'.
I'm still reeling from my close encounter with Harvey Keitel from last week. Now, I realize maybe this is like, no big deal to you. But frankly, I felt all Courtney Cox in that Dancing in the Dark video, plucked from the crowds and thrust into the spotlight.
How does one follow such a thing up? For me, it was sweet talkin' my way onto the red carpet to go heel to heel with the one and only SJP. That's MS. Carrie Bradshaw herself, out and about to 
Which means it's time to bitch about Lost (3 weeks of eps backed up on the DVR and slogging thru all the "Is it now? Is it before? Who's the latest Darma dude?" crap - do I really care anymore?), time to decide if I'll follow Brothers and Sisters to season 4 (did they really dump Balthazar Getty for screwing around with Sienna Miller?), and I'm even holding out hope that Grey's will pull off a nice, juicy brain tumor-wedding cliffhanger fiesta that will hearken back to the days when this show was heart patient-Denny good, not hallucination-Denny bad.
