The president of my Homeowner's Association is fucking hot. Seriously. We have done some flirting in the past, and so I know there's a bit of tension normally, but yesterday was a misstep.
I was on my way to Target, and I was slumming it. I looked like an overweight Abercrombie model who hadn't shaved: this look is best described as frat-party-morning-after chic. I'm riding down our elevator and hoping (while not hoping at the same time) to run into Dean. So I'm leaning against the inside of the elevator and as the elevator door opens on the parking level, I see Dean. He has his back to me, posting some sort of notice on the bulletin board. He's wearing these shorts and some trackers and looks damn good. But he's standing barely four to five feet from me, so we're quite close and as the door opens he turns his head to see who is coming out of the elevator. I'm still leaning on the wall in the elevator, but when I see Dean and our eyes meet ever so slightly, I move from my position of repose against the wall and open my mouth to say "Hey, Dean" or something flirtier like "Hello, gorgeous," or "What's up big boy?" or "Nice ass, cowboy." But just as I open my mouth, this woman we both know walks in from the garage and says "Hello!" She is bustling in and appears to be in a hurry. I respond immediately with a "hi" to this woman. It's all rather cramped, really, in this part of the lobby, and she walks (with her bags) between me and Dean and into the elevator. I have to let her pass and then exit to the garage. There's no other way. I say nothing to Dean and he says nothing to me, but the look lingered. It hung in the air like a memory.
It's too bad I looked like shit. Oh well.
Then at the Target in Pasadena I almost (quite literally) ran into Derek Luke. He's fairly short. I know they tell us that all celebrities are short, but I am always surprised to see how short they really are. He sure as Hell isn't 5'11" like his bio says.