Woman Reinvents Self: 2017-05-07

If you could meet your celebrity crush, would you leap at the chance? Or would you be awestruck? What if it turned out that the celebrity in question was gorgeous and really funny? He must have at least one flaw, right? How does the world's sexiest celebrity transform from crush to boyfriend? He’s hoping his special someone can overlook one teensy, weensy, foible.

Photo from Bodybuilding.com

“Giuliana, you look ravishing this evening.” Under the glare of the bright lights and scrutiny of millions of viewers, I leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on her cheek before quietly letting the Fashion Police Hostess know that she had red lipstick on her brilliantly white teeth. As I stepped back, I caught sight of Emma Stone posing before the cameras, showing off the back of her gown. Mockingly, I began to strike a variety of poses I’d observed over the years. Such a ridiculous procedure!

The cameraman zoomed in and captured me head to toe giving the makeup artist a chance to swoop in and fixed the faux pas. Giuliana mouthed, “thank you,” as I spun around, finishing up with my best Saturday Night Fever pose. Giuliana, laughing, spoke into the camera, “Don’t quit your day job.”

“I’m offended. I practiced that bit for weeks.” I turned watery eyes to the camera and cast an upward glance that screamed, ‘You've hurt my feelings,’ before giving into laughter. Take back control of the situation, Giuliana swept her hand the length of my ensemble, “Now, I really must know, who are you wearing tonight? And let’s hope they don’t regret it!”

The cameraman took in my black Tom Ford Tuxedo and Valentino shoes. Knowing no one cared in the slightest, I answered, “No lilac tuxedos were offered, so I went as traditional as I possibly could tonight. I did make one exception though.” I lifted my trouser leg, encouraging the cameraman to zero in on my socks. I’d had them custom-made for the sole purpose of letting the love of my life know that I was dead serious when I made my emotional declarations last week, and not drunk, as she accused me. Wonder how she’ll make of this being on international television?

Giuliana gushed, “DES BANNERMAN! In addition to being the King of Romantic Comedies, you are the king of real-life romance as well. Who is the lucky lady?”

Ignoring her query, I admitted, “I am desperately trying to persuade her to love me back. Think the subtle ploy will work?” I dropped my trouser back into place, making sure they rested perfectly atop my shoe, covering the dark-purple socks with golden crowns woven throughout. She’ll know. That’s all that matters. Turning to humor so that the hostess couldn’t ask more personal questions, my mission complete, I paraphrased Nottinghill, “If she rejects me, all that awaits me at home is a masturbating Welshman.”

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