Despite having lived nearly a third of my life in California, I am woefully short on celebrity encounters. Woefully short. As in zero. About the best I can offer is that, once, I stood in line behind Jay Thomas at the Starbucks in Burbank while visiting my brother and sister-in-law. No offense to Jay Thomas, but it was less than thrilling. Even the sous-chef got to share an elevator with Rod Stewart when he was a teenager.
But there is this one thing. I went abroad with Bradley Cooper. Now, before you get yourselves all in a lather, let me explain.
It was ⦠long before he was⦠well, before he was Bradley Cooper A-Lister. Then, he was just Bradley Cooper, student from Georgetown, and I was Courtney Scott, student from Bates, and we were thrown together for about six months with 15 or so other French-speaking somethings on a college semester abroad in Aix-en-Provence.
Our whole group ate dinner together, family-style, once a week in a local restaurant. At the end of the semester, we took a whole series of gag photos.
Not sure why. Seemed funny then. Even though this brief exposure to Mr. Cooper seemed every bit ordinary while it was occurring, people generally get wide-eyed and little breathless when I tell them about it not so much the requester of this postβ¦ I believe she just finds it to be a fun fact about me. The conversation that follows usually goes a little something like thisβ¦.
