Dropping Trou in front of the Clooneys (warning, long! ... story, that is ::wink wink::) -- ABCra XYZee

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Date Posted: 12:01:34 01/17/05 Mon
Author: KatRose
Subject: Dropping Trou in front of the Clooneys (warning, long! ... story, that is ::wink wink::)
In reply to: Sara 's message, "I'm very interested in hearing that "Clooney story" I haven't heard it! *Raises hand*" on 22:19:34 01/16/05 Sun

Back in the fall of 1996, I worked at Paramount Picture in the Special Events Department. We were responsible for the opening ceremony weekend of the Hollywood Entertainment Museum - black tie gala on Saturday, October 6, 1996 and street festival on Sunday. We shut down 3 blocks of Hollywood Blvd. for 3 days, including the block in front of Grauman's Chinese Theaters.

I had been on-site at the Museum since Tuesday morning. I'd go home around 10pm and get back to the museum around 7am. Friday night (the day before the gala), I was at the site until almost 2am and had to be back at 8am.

We were setting up the formal dinner on the street itself with a huge stage for the Legacy Awards (which are given to a showbiz family each year) and subsequent performing parts. I was a crazy woman (we all were) that day. I finally left the site to go to the hotel room we had so I could change into my formal outfit and then hoof it back to the museum before the guests arrived.

The Museum itself is built below street level.... you have to walk down a flight of stairs to get to the entrance and it houses parts of the Star Trek sets (pieces of the Enterprise D and props from all the shows) and the original Cheers bar. We were holding the VIP/sponsor meet 'n greet in the Cheers bar with live coverage from one of the local stations (I don't remember which).

Now that you've got an idea about the magnitude of this thing....picture this. I'm 5'5", slightly round (well, ok, rather round), medium reddish-brown hair, glasses and not too comfortable in dress-up clothes (especially heels). I'm wearing a pair of black chiffon pants with an elastic waistband, a beaded/sequined (blue, green, turquoise, purple) black silk top and a brand new, never been worn black 2" heels. I had my hair done up in a French twist and lots of hairspray. I looked Fab-u-lous!

My cohort for the evening was the event producer, she was in charge of EVERYTHING!!! Well, about the time the guests were arriving (meaning the celebs had finally gotten their butts to the gala), she needed to go back to the room and change her clothes. She hands me her walkie-talkie and says if anyone asks, she'll be back in 1/2 hour.

Well, to say the least, I'm not dressed in anything that can hide a walkie-talkie; so I do the smart thing...I clip the mike to my shirt collar (so it's near my face for talking) and clip the main equipment to my waistband. I'm running around like a crazy woman, putting out this crises and that one�.handling the fire marshall (the tables were too close to the fire lane), dealing with cranky guests ("our tables not next to the stage") and other such nonsense.

The Legacy Award winners that year were the Clooneys....Rosemary, George, Jose Ferrar and George's dad (can't remember his name). Plus we had the Carradine brothers, folks from ER (to see George) and a whole lot of other folks. I think we had probably 100 celebs in the guest list of 1000. Got it? Wonderful crowd, beautiful decorations, gorgeous people, and lots and lots of cameras.

Well, this crazy woman (me) was trying to get the Clooneys to go downstairs to the VIP party so the various news folks could interview them. I'm standing directly in front of the gorgeous George himself and telling him where to go and what to do � ::sigh:: � I'm telling them they need to go inside and that someone would take care of them there. He looked scrumptious! ::heavy sigh - major drool::

I'm standing there talking to he and his family when I feel a tug on the back of my pants. I look around to see one of the tech crew yanking my pants back up. That darn walkie talkie had caused the elastic waistband to slid down my silk support bodysuit (the kind that keeps the tummy tucked in) and the whole thing was only millimeters from falling off my body. The yank had done its job, the pants were back where they belonged, but in the meantime, George is looking at me with this expression on his face. ::shaking head in embarrassment::

I stumbled through the rest of my conversation, trying very hard not to look in his eyes. Then I scrammed out of there so fast, I left skid marks on the pavement. I met up with the techie and reamed him for making a spectacle of me, to which he pointed out...if he hadn't, I would have shortly. He fixed a very nice wire waistband for the walkie-talkie and I didn't have any more trouble with my pants that night.

At the end of the evening (around 11:30pm), I walked down the middle of Hollywood Blvd. (literally), holding my shoes in one hand and holding up my pants in another. When I got back to the hotel, I looked in the mirror covered elevator walls and realized that my beautiful French Twist was a solid piece of hair sticking straight out the side of my head. I wonder how long it'd been like that? I had to get one of the other elevator riders to unzip my top (my arms wouldn't bend by then) and crawled straight out of the clothes and into bed. It's a wonder I woke up and was able to face the crowds the next morning. But it was fun.

I can honestly say....I've almost lost my pants in front of George Clooney.

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Replies:

[> [> [> [> [> [> LOL! Thanks for sharing that with those of us who haven't heard it, KatRose. That sounds like one of those stories that wasn't very funny at the time, but gives you many laughs and conversation starters nowadays! LOL! -- Sara, 21:47:46 01/17/05 Mon [1]

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