Marginally Disappointing Celebrity Encounters: Vol. 1

As some of you may know, I've been harboring a certain lower-level crush on a certain Mr. Sweeney Todd ever since I saw the show a few weeks ago. We did the usual stuff that people do with their imaginary boyfriends: traveled to Paris to romp in bubbling fountains, fielded constant interview requests from US Weekly... He'd often compliment my singing voice and I, in turn, would do the same.

Today I was wandering the Upper West Side listening to my sugarface sassafras croon sweet Sondheim-isms into my ear when - wait - could it be? Sunshine glinted off his shiny pate. He sauntered slowly towards me, his eyes saying everything and nothing, all at the same time. Those eyes. That chin. He was... he was...

He was wearing a yellow t-shirt and red sweats.

I had to end it, right then and there. It wasn't easy. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt (The gym! He's clearly going to the gym!) but Rule #1 in the I.B.A.Q.T* (Imaginary Boyfriend All-encompassing Quintessential Textbook) "Sweatpants send a message to the world that you've just given up". Yes, Seinfeld said it first but truthiness knows no bounds!

I admit it, he wept (but only a little and in a gorgeous baritone). It's never easy to break up with someone you imaginarily love, but I know it's for the best.

Still, Paris just won't be the same without him.



*Say it out loud. It's marginally funnier that way.