So, you want to be famous? If you’re under 30, I suggest signing up for a reality TV show where you get drunk, show your cootch and hook up with every cast member. NOTE: You must screw around with all male AND female cast members or you will be considered cliché, boring, and/or desperate.
If you are past your reality TV show prime, then it may be time to activate Plan B (as in Befriend a Celebrity). When I took my current job, my boss mentioned in the interview that I may be working a little bit with Dr. Oz, who at the time was doing speaking engagements for the company. This excited me for several reasons:
- He talks about poop a lot, and I like to poop a lot, especially if I’ve eaten a lot of (insert food name here).
- He knows Oprah and no matter how much she irritates me, I’d still give both boobs to hear her say, “Please welcome to the show, Jennifer CREHHHHHHHHsap!” (If possible, I’d also like to touch her hair. Is it soft? Is it real? Is she hiding food in there?)
Would I have preferred to work with a less fancy smart celebrity? Yes and yes. He’s not exactly up-to-speed on Britney’s mental instability or Lindsay’s drug problems and I’m not exactly up-to-speed on heart surgery so the conversational font runs dry pretty quickly when we are alone together. Here’s a sample conversation:
Jennifer: “So, you eat almonds and fish and exercise a lot, huh?”
Dr. Oz: “Yes, Jennifer, I do. And let me tell you why... (Insert smart doctor language here).”
Jennifer: “I like nachos. Sometimes I get them with tomatoes, but not really. Do fish and chips count as fish?”
Above all, Dr. Oz is a patient and kind man.
Hitting the road
At the start of my eighth day on the job, my boss called me into her office to tell me she was leaving and I would be in charge of our relationship with Dr. Oz. And so it began.
Our first meeting happened at an event in L.A. I hung out in my company’s trade show booth and handed out t-shirts and listened to angry customers while he walked around and talked about poop and earwax.
My chance to meet him came at the end of this very long, very sweaty day. Unfortunately I was wearing a logo t-shirt, stretchy pants and sensible shoes. Fortunately he was even dreamier and more charming in person and didn’t even seem to notice the French fry stains on my pants. I shook his hand and stood there like a doof (I had two thoughts running in my head: Do not tell him you’re a huge fan and Do not ask about Oprah). He gave me a friendly hug and an ultra-charming European cheek kiss. Before he walked away, he asked me for my coordinates, which is a fancy smart person way of saying he wanted my business card. How can you not love the guy?
Dr. Oz: 1; Jennifer 0
I traveled to events with Dr. Oz throughout the summer that year, and he constantly busted me eating something crappy (he also constantly offered me a bite of his healthy food option, which I respectfully declined). Eventually he began greeting me by saying, “Are you really eating again?” and I would defend myself by saying I was confused by the time zone change or carrying the food for a friend.
Dr. Oz: 2; Jennifer: 0
Dr. Oz is an awesomely famous person for many reasons – he’s got that good hair, he’s super smart, he’s funny, and he LOVES talking to people. Even when I was alone with him, I was never really alone with him because he was constantly on the move. The man can work a room like nobody’s business. I gave up trying to hold his attention for more than three minutes because when he’s at an event or out in public, all he wants to do is talk to the people who came to see him and answer their questions and help them out.
One day I had a rare moment alone with him before an event. We were chatting idly when he turned to me and said, “You have a big head which is perfect for television. A lot of people in television have big heads. They photograph better on television. Oprah has a big head.”
Was this flattery or a back-handed compliment? And was he really comparing me to Oprah? I replied, “If you think my head is big, you should see my dad’s!”
(Yes, I do I wish I had better control over the fat mouth attached to my big head).
From that point on, I began telling everyone that Dr. Oz told me I had a perfect head for television.
Dr. Oz: 3; Jennifer: ½ (I’m giving myself a half point for being born with a larger-than-average head)
When Dr. Oz got his own talk show, my days of traveling with him and sharing stories about our big heads came to an end. I had to find other ways to get my fame fix.
Which is how I weaseled my way into appearing on The Dr. Oz Show.
Tune in next week to hear all about my three minutes of fame!
