Through the usual web of connections, I recently ended up at the SAG Awards after-party. After about my fifth free Grey Goose and cranberry, I turned around and bumped into Joey Fatone. At least, I thought it was Joey Fatone. “Heyyyy!” I exclaimed. “Joey Fatone!” He laughed. “No, my name’s Frank.” “Really?” “Yes, really. But I get that all the time.” As a
“Um… so… uh… where are you from?” “New York originally,” Frank said, “But I moved to LA from Florida.” “Oh! Oh! I’m from Kentucky!” I exclaimed, and then emitted some sort of tipsy woo-girl-esqe, “Woooo! Yay southern people!” “I don’t know if Florida is the south.” Frank said frankly. “But, you know what? The Kentucky Derby is my favorite thing in the wor
And just as I was about to demonstrate my own imagined jockey stance, a very small, very bald man in a dark suit came up and stood between Frank and I. Handing me a business card, I honestly thought he hip-bumped my newfound equestrian-loving friend away. “Joey has to leave now,” he murmured. As he walked away, I was straight-up bummed that I’d missed my chan
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