
[This is a personal rant delivered from high atop my soapbox.*]
I was pretty psyched to hear that Rob Pattinson was at La Poubelle on Saturday, because I hang out there sometimes too, and it always feels good to have your nightlife choices validated by celebrities who are much richer and more attractive than you. La Poubelle is right next to the UCB Theatre where I’m a performer, and sometimes my friends and I go there to get drinks and dinner after our shows. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was there with a bunch of my guy friends. We had to stand close together because the bar was packed, so sometimes our bodies touched. When I wanted to tell my friend Joe something, like about how delicious the sliders were, I had to lean in and put my face right next to his ear because it gets loud in there. I may have also touched his shoulder while doing this. Later that night, I drove a bunch of my friends home because we all live near each other, we like designated drivers and it makes us feel good to act like we’re helping the environment. Then I went and hung out with my husband, who I’ve been with since 2003.
But somehow, when poor Rob does the same exact thing, some fans, celebrity sites and tabloids take a meaningless, fun night out and turn it into the cheating scandal of the century. I’m all for enjoying the world of celebrity, but speculating about things so far as you are essentially writing fiction about another person’s life is not cool. At all. Neither is exaggerating the circumstances to the point where a friend is suddenly “his mystery woman!” or insinuating that Rob is cheating just to grab some page views.
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