At least she didn't call him Jackie Chan

Reason # 34932498 why hanging out with a group of out of towners is a bad bad idea:

As a NYer living in a cool area, when the weather gets warm I see countless celebs. On Friday Claire Danes’ dog moseyed on up to my table outside my neighborhood sushi place as my friends and I kicked back Sapporo #2. In classic dazed, aka drunk Shannon fashion, I didn’t notice her until Corn mentioned, “wow, Claire Danes has a huge ass!” I paused. Momentarily felt better about my self. And then proceeded to pour another beer.

I’ve trained myself. Only tourists and the senile walk up and introduce themselves to celebs. Wannabes like me pretend that we understand their frustrations with fame and so we leave them alone. You know, like my job working 9-6 and then sitting in my apt all night watching E! and VH1 allows me to understand the doubled edged sword that is celebrity.

You want to know the truth why I don’t rush Larry David at the lodge in Sun Valley or run after Claire Danes and tell her how her role in ‘My So Called Life’ changed my life? Embarrassment. Establishing social mores since the dawn of civilization. I would die if a celeb acted like s/he didn’t give a shit. Denying what countless celeb gossip magazines says is true… they really aren’t like Us.

On Saturday night I take the out of towners to my favorite pub on the LES. I wanted them to see the bar that is my second home. The place where I end up dancing on the bar at 3am, where I get hammered with my bad influence Victor, and where I take my faux dates off of the internet.

We find a table in one of their nooks and the 10 of us sit down and order a round of beers. It’s early, so the Saturday night crowd hasn’t come in yet. I am staring off into space, wishing for my beer and my friend S grabs my arm and points towards the bar.

“I think that’s James Iha of the Smashing Pumpkins!!”

I look around. A Japanese dude with a bleached blond faux mullet is not that common.

“Dude, you’re right! Hey everyone look James Iha of the Smashing Pumpkins is here!”

All ten of us do a double take.

You get excited when you are in the same place as a celeb. Not because you are happy to be near your idol or some other lame adolescent crap. But it legitimizes a place. It’s that same ironic acceptance that makes drinking PBR cool when you have an MBA.

“I should go up and say hi!” Said S.

“No you shouldn’t! He is busy. Dude, celebs just want to be left alone” I say, with my NYC authority.

“Yea, you're right he's with a girl. I wouldn’t want to cock block him.”

As we are discussing the celeb in our midst, B, who doesn’t like beer comes back with a cocktail.

“So I spoke to him.” Said B.

“No you did not! What did you say?!” We say with a little disdain and mostly envy.

“Yea, I asked him if he was the guitarist from Blind Melon. And he was like ‘yea’!”

“Dude,” I say, “that couldn’t be the guitarist from Blind Melon. He’s died back in the late '90s and that dude is very much alive. He's the guitarist from the Smashing pumpkins. James Iha?"

If you are going to bother a celeb as he is macking it, the least you could do is not confuse a living Japanese American with a dead white guy.