What would you do if you were three feet away from Jason Schwartzman (of Rushmore, I Heart Huckabees and Shopgirl fame) as he gazed handsomely into a gourmet deli display?
If you were me, you would stare at him with a grin on your face trying to decide if you should say, "I don't mean to bother you, but I think you're brilliant" or maybe "You saved Shopgirl from some dangerous doldrums" or "My hair spells out inspirational messages in the bathroom sink." Or, the final option, just don't say a thing and do him the favor of pretending to ignore him.
I went with the latter, but the girl behind the bread counter, where he dashingly wandered next, broke into a grin and quietly announced, "Jason Schwartzman" to the self same. I couldn't see his reaction due to being blocked by a baguette cart.
I walked away, semi-kicking myself for not taking a chance to at least interact with him for a moment. But I am twice shy after having been burned by a negative celebrity encounter during my youth. At least that TV personality had the decency to take a career nosedive after dissing my innocent autograph request with a hissed retort.
In retrospect, I wished I would've found a way to engage Jason in a brief conversation along these lines:
Me: Hi, are you figuring out what to get for dinner?
Jason: Yes, but I'm having a hard time finding something that will fit into my macrobiotic diet regimen.
Me: O.R. you?
Why can't a life that puts Jason Schartzman three feet away from you also put those kinds of bon mots into your mouth?