Natalie, Natalie

My colleagues and I have a Friday happy our tradition. Our logic is that if we are going to have to work over the weekend anyway, then why ruin Friday night as well.

Last friday night, as colleague K was busy aggressively trying to pick up another colleague at the bar, I sat at a table with two other (male) colleagues - one married, one single.

The single guy said that everything would be ok if he could just live out his fantasy with Natalie Portman, who, to him represents the perfect woman - brains, beauty, and other assets that I can not recall...

When he started blabbing about Natalie I kind of rolled my eyes and said, well, uh "good luck."



Fast forward to last night. I found myself celebrating my birthday at an extended weekly happy hour, surrounded by friends from work, school, and elsewhere. Our numbers dwindled in the week hours. K had no remaining targets in the bar and the forlorn single guy was once again commenting on his single status, when....
... lo and behold, who comes and sits down at the table next to ours but Natalie Portman herself!


Needless to say, forlorn single guy did not come any closer to living out his Portman fantasy, but he at least got a hell of a lot closer to Natalie in the flesh.


This is amazing - the paparrazi are so bad that there are pictures of Natalie wandering around the West Village yesterday wearing the same hideous top and hairstyle that she wore at the bar....