Monday, May 05, 2008

Paparocrisy

About a month ago, my wife got an email from Virgin American offering some kind of insanely cheap promotional fare from DC to LA. So we decided to make a long weekend out of it, having never really spent any time there outside of the standard airport-taxi-hotel conference center-taxi-airport business trip where you're never outside of air conditioning for more than 30 seconds. The flight was great, the airline seems to actually be designed with what customers in 2008 might want in mind, i.e. laptop outlets, comfortable seats, and--this is the best part--a touch screen in back of the seat in front of you that not only has 20 channels of cable TV,  video games, and on-demand movies, but allows you to order food and drinks any time you want, as opposed to waiting 45 minutes for the beverage cart or what have you. There's also a little keyboard thing that allows you to text people in other parts of the plane. It's cool.

Anyway, we check into our hotel, drive over to some place (the geography was confusing, thank God for GPS) with lots of nice stores, park the car, walk up out of the garage, and we haven't been on the sidewalk for--I'm not making this up--more than 5 seconds when I hear the following conversation (conducted in vaguely Eastern European accents):

Guy#1: There is nobody there, I'm telling you.

Guy#2: I go up there, is Tom Arnold. How much money for him?

Guy #1: Nothing, see, that's what I said, is nobody.   

Sure enough -- paparrazi, complete with bad haircuts and huge telephoto lenses. So I figure, hey, photo opportunity! I pull out my little digital camera and take a picture of the guys standing there on the sidewalk with their big cameras. And they get mad! Guy #1 says, "Hey, not picture, not pictures" -- without irony


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