So a while ago (okay let’s be honest about 10 posts ago because I have been sucky about posting at best…) when I was going on and on…
and on and on…
and maybe a little bit on and on…about Jen Lancaster, I mentioned I had a run in with Tom Cruise.
Thousands, Hundreds, Dozens, ONE OF YOU threatened to scour my archives to find the story. But I’ve never told you. So Bex? This one’s for you girlfriend.
The year was 1987 or 1988…all I know is Tom Cruise was in Dallas filming “Born On The Fourth Of July” and I was at a wine tasting. (Okay do the math real quick. Me? Old? Why yes, I am…)
Let’s start with the wine tasting, shall we? Now a normal person, of a certain age, would know that wine tasting is just that. A tasting. But in 1987 or so I was 22, and a wine tasting mean one thing. Wine gulping. Hell, if I was going to pay to be there and they were going to give me those tiny glasses…I was going to get my money’s worth. Period.
Yeah, okay, not smart. Go back in time and talk some smack to 22 year old me and see how far you get. Go on. I’ll wait.
Ok, back? You didn’t win because 22 year old me slurred some horrible response to you that made you go cry in the bathroom?
Yeah. I thought so.
So anyway, I was there with my boyfriends sister. It’s important to note my boyfriend at that time was named Leslie Nutt. He went by Les. Les Nutt. Nope, not kidding. Dated him for four years, thought I’d marry him, at which point I would have been Mary Anne Nutt…which in retrospect is apropos. Still, unfortunate name for him. Les? If you are reading this? Sorry I was kind of a shit back in the day, but you were too, friends? No? Well, whatever.
So his sister and I went to this wine tasting, slung back…oh…I’d say a dozen small wine glasses…and realized after embarassing ourselves that perhaps it would be a good idea to stumble across the street to Terelli’s and get some food.
You know what a bad idea after drinking too much wine at a wine tasting is? Martini’s. That’s what.
So we got to Terrellis, ordered some Italchos (crispy pizza crust covered in whatever you want…in my case, cheese, shrimp, artichoke hearts and capers…yummmm) and proceeded to drink our bowls of loud mouth soup. It was all going swimmingly until Alison looked at me and said, “Phsssssssssthhhh….don’t look now but, Tom Cruishh is is shitting right behind you…” (Authors note: he was not shitting, he was in fact SITTING but man, we were in a bad state.)
At which point, I did what any drunk 22 year old would do and I whipped around to look. By whipped, I mean I turned my head so fast I simultaneously gave myself whip lash and threw myself halfway off my chair, legs akimbo, glazed look on my face. IMPRESSIVE.
The conversation, as best I can recollect, and based on corroboration the next day from other friends who were there
laughing their asses off paying attention, went something like this:
Me: Shyou are Tom Cruishe? SHOMG…am totally freaking out jusht a shlittle bit.
Tom: Yes, I am.
Me: Whose that with you? She looks oooolllllddddd….
Tom: That would be my WIFE, Mimi. (You young ‘uns? That’s his first wife Mimi Rogers which made her about 32 or 33 at the time…which makes me an ass. Also? She had gone to the bathroom and I am eternally thankful she did not hear this exchange…)
Me: Really? Becauzzzzz she really looks oooollllldddd…
Tom: *Blank Stare*
Me: Alsho, why are you so skinnnnny?
(Authors note: He was, and? He is incredibly short. I’d take him in a cage match twice on Sunday.)
Tom: Because I’m filming a movie about a disabled war veteran and I had to lose weight for the role.
Me: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH…Wait. WHAT??? (Sort of missed the point here, in case you didn’t catch that…thought I was being charming laughing at his imagined witty commentary when in fact, I wasn’t listening and managed to disrespect the armed forces everywhere. THE SHAME.)
Tom: Perhaps you should call a cab?
So there you have it. My run in with Tom Cruise before he was all weird and stuff. The good news is, he was a nice guy, put up with me and even cared enough to remind me to call a cab.
Which I did.