The bar was completely packed, and I was sandwiched between Owen Wilson and Scarlett Johansson. All three of our elbows kept bumping every time one of us tried to take a drink.

“Hey Owen,” I said.

“How you doing Guy? You look like you have a question for me.”

“Yeah, I was just wondering, if you could fuck any celebrity, who would it be?”

“You know, I never really thought about it. I might have to sit on that for a while, because it’s just not the sort of thing that goes through my mind.”

He leaned over me and tapped Scarlett on the shoulder.

“Hey Scarlett, Guy was just asking if I had a celebrity crush. How about you? Do you think about that sort of thing? I mean is there like a famous person you would sleep with if you had the chance, because I haven’t really given it much thought.”

“All mine are dead,” she said.

“I can see that.” I actually couldn’t see it, but I didn’t want to argue with her in public again.

“I don’t think I’d want to have sex with a dead person.”

“Owen, don’t be ridiculous. I meant while they were alive. A young Marlon Brando or maybe Paul Newman in that pool movie. What was that called?”

“Is Paul dead? I love his salad dressing. It’s so creamy.” Owen always says the right thing.

“So, no crushes?” I asked him. “You don’t go to the movies and get turned on by anyone?”

He took a long sip of his drink as Scarlett went back to her phone. She was texting someone in Chinese, and I could only make out every other word.

“I’d kinda like to make out with Martha Plimpton, but probably not sex. Like maybe just a little kissing. You know what I mean? Goonies was really important to me.”

“So Paul Newman and Martha, huh? Those are good choices.”

“What about you, Guy?” Scarlett asked me.

“Oh, I don’t really like famous people. It just seems like too much work, you know? I’d rather sleep with the bartender or the guy at the door.”

She just nodded her head without looking up again, but Owen leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Well, you know what they say…”

I smiled and put my drink down. 

“Yup, I sure do Owen. I sure do.”

I stood up and put on my coat.  I polished off the last of my drink, dropped some money on the bar and turned to head out.

“Hey, Guy, do you mind if I take your chair?”

“Sure thing, Uma.  Have a good night,” I said, waving to them as I headed towards the door.

Guy New York