Oh Karen

I’m rarely ever star struck. And despite being a total slut, I could never see myself as a starfucker. It’s not in my nature. I’ve been in the company of celebrities and pseudo-celebrities in the past and not once have I fallen to the kind of school girl silliness or “Midwestern American on vacation in Hollywood” type of excitable fawning over someone who may or may not have been on television. Call me a bitch, but I don’t consider most reality stars celebrities. I hate reality television. There I said it. Sigh.

Anyway, what I was getting at is this past Saturday during my busy Los Angeles travels I made a pit stop at my favorite vintage retail store Jet Rag. Please note that the word vintage does not equal thrift. This store is anything but. I always manage to find all kinds of good one-of-a-kind items that I sport while out in the scene. I love this place.

While standing behind Woods in line to pay for the swanky duds I located within the depths of the store, I noticed a short(er) dark haired young woman next to me. I know I recognized her from somewhere, but where, it was escaping me. I held tight onto my animal print dress (yes, dress, I need something to wear to the Dragstrip66’s 14th Anniversary coming up), fur shoulder wrap (see the reasoning for the animal print dress), black cracked western-ish leather belt, and reversible snow blocking parka vest (don’t ask) as I tried to search my mind for a single memory of her face.

As soon as Woods signed his credit card statement, it hit me. It was Karen O from the indie rock group Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I wasn’t star struck, and I most certainly wasn’t fawning. I actually didn’t make anything much of it like all those previous times celebrities had been just a jizzism shot away from me. Although I still wasn’t 100 percent cocksure that it was her. And being the nosey person I can be, I had to make cocksure. I knew that this was going to be a crafty little task I was going to put myself through.

I barked at Woods to sit down over on the entrance way seat once he plucked his bag from the counter. I made some eye movements to him, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell I was referring to. He knew I was up to something so he went along with it. I didn’t look back at her at all during the process of my purchase. I smiled back at Woods a few times, exchanged some banter with the sales guy, and eyeballed a few of the skinny neck ties behind the counter.

Once the sale was completed, I quickly shimmied next to Woods on the seat. I softly whispered in his ear that my thought was dear Miss Karen O was the female behind me in line. Woods expressed a perplexed looked on his face for a slight moment... until he realized I was speaking of Karen O from the YYYs. He then leaned in to verify my star sighting. His eyes widened and agreed with me. I told him I still wasn’t sure tho, but I begged him to please bare with me while I investigate.

I left my bag with Woods as I stood up and walked over to the other side of the counter to “look” at the fauxstaches and wrist bands. The entire time my eyes were fixated on Miss Karen O. I tired not to stare. I moved a little closer to the register via the earrings in hopes to hear her speak. I knew if I heard her voice I would be most certain it was her.

As I my fingers toyed with the 1980’s triangular and oddly shaped neon bright jewelry, I finally heard that familiar voice. Sure enough it was the Divine Miss O. She spoke softly to the cashier man about her purchase, and before I knew it she was on her merry way right out the door. Which at that time I hurried over to Woods and we both scurried out the door behind her. This was not a stalker move, this was a confirmation move. Since Woods had parked his vehicle in the front I stood frozen in the parking lot watching her walking away down La Brea.

I immediately called my brother as he would surely appreciate the caliber of that star sighting. And he did. I mentioned to him that it is quite commonplace to run into all kinds of entertainment folk while in the City of Angels since it is the capitol of such. I don’t know any other city where you can spot a porn starlet, a politician and a drag queen all at the local Starbucks sipping down a little of the liquid crack cocaine know as caffeine on any given day of the week.

Much later in the car, Woods and I conjured up some lines we could have spoken to each other in hopes to illicit a response from her – lines that if spoken loud enough would be considered quite annoying and, frankly, tacky in vying to get attention from Karen.

They began with the song titles:

- Hey, are you going to dress up as a GOLD LION for Dragstrip66’s 14th Anniversary?

- Or maybe you should go as a HONEYBEAR.

- What? Y CONTROL? Now why would I control that?

- Maybe we should have looked at one of those MAPS.

- You have such a BLACK TONGUE.

- Will you please stop CHASING HEARTS?

- You are such a RICH bitch!

And of course you have the album titles:

- Why don’t you just SHOW YOUR BONES?

- That is so FEVER TO TELL!

I guess I could have been really obvious and said:

- YEAH YEAH YEAHS, whatever!