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Prime real estate
Sep. 8th, 2009 01:31 pmI just want to reiterate for the eight millionth time how much I enjoy the location of my office.
We're smack in the middle of the craziness that is the Oprah season premiere taping, which means all kinds of interesting things to observe.
Like, for instance, the activity on the Michigan Avenue bridge, where there's a small trailer for talent and a red double-decker bus where the big O herself was conducting an interview with some woman, presumably one of her special guests.
I was walking past all that on my way to get some lunch, and noticed a bunch of suburban-looking women on the walkway opposite me pointing frantically, fumbling with their cameras, and squealing.
Why?
Because they spotted none other than Mario Lopez, better known to me as A.C. Slater, making his way toward the production bus.
He was close enough that I could have touched him. I didn't, of course, one because I'm too civilized for that, and two, because even though I recognize that he's an incredibly attractive man, his particular brand of attractive doesn't do much to rev my engines. I did take a moment to admire his dimples though. They were on full display when the women across the street kicked their squealing into overdrive.
And then he was gone and I continued my walk south in search of a hot slice of pizza. A girl's gotta have priorities, right?
:)
We're smack in the middle of the craziness that is the Oprah season premiere taping, which means all kinds of interesting things to observe.
Like, for instance, the activity on the Michigan Avenue bridge, where there's a small trailer for talent and a red double-decker bus where the big O herself was conducting an interview with some woman, presumably one of her special guests.
I was walking past all that on my way to get some lunch, and noticed a bunch of suburban-looking women on the walkway opposite me pointing frantically, fumbling with their cameras, and squealing.
Why?
Because they spotted none other than Mario Lopez, better known to me as A.C. Slater, making his way toward the production bus.
He was close enough that I could have touched him. I didn't, of course, one because I'm too civilized for that, and two, because even though I recognize that he's an incredibly attractive man, his particular brand of attractive doesn't do much to rev my engines. I did take a moment to admire his dimples though. They were on full display when the women across the street kicked their squealing into overdrive.
And then he was gone and I continued my walk south in search of a hot slice of pizza. A girl's gotta have priorities, right?
:)
