Justin Timberlake, Me, Hillary & Bill at Moishes


Justin Timberlake - handsome, stylish, singer, songwriter, musician, dancer, choreographer, entrepreneur (Tequila, Clothing Line)and Actor - did I miss anything?

So I was reading a feature story about him in Esquire. I'm not famous - not sure if you were aware of that - however I was able to relate to Justin's need to put on a costume and hide.

He's in San Diego and he has two costumes - one is of Bert and the other Ernie (as in Sesame Street and if you aren't catching on now - I can't help you). So the reporter and Justin put on the costumes and they head off to the comic conference across the street from the hotel.

Justin explains that this is his first opportunity to go out and not be recognized since about 2001 (as in the year as in this guy has been chased by paparazzi and screaming women and men of course - for over a decade). He also notes that he likes to run his own messages. He shops for his groceries, picks up his shirts at the dry cleaners, goes to the gym, etc and is therefore constantly followed and stalked.

There he is in the midst of thousands of comic fans who may just as likely be Justin Timberlake fans (actually his music is playing at one of the booths)and he can walk anywhere without anyone following or bothering him.

The story ends with Justin returning to his hotel room and changing into regular clothes without a fake head and leaving the hotel blocked by his body guard and being rushed by crowds of crying fans.

Here's what I'd like to do with Justin (that I can actually talk about in this post). I'd like to invite him here to our fine city of Montreal for a Habs game and dinner (that'll come it at about $700 but hey, it's his treat). Forget Ernie and Bert - we are going out in style - he is going to be wearing Bill Clinton and I of course will be Hillary. Yeah we'd buy some steamies and two beers in small cups for $15 a piece from those really cheery older guys who sell the stuff and look like they joined a traveling carnival for the first part of their lives and forgot that they are no longer at the carnival. We'd seat ourselves down centre ice behind the team bench(okay the night just went up to $1500) and cheer on our boys. Get this - no one would know he is Justin and no one would know I am Lisa (not sure why the second part matters but just go with it).

At some point during the game, the cameras would angle in on us in our costumes and we would stand up and wave. Then at half time we would be invited to dance on the ice - sort of like the Ice Capades or the Ice Follies although he would not be wearing tights and I would not be in a skirt that flips up in the air when I do and shows everyone my panties nor would the most recently retired professional figure skating man come beaming out from behind the curtain and grab a small child by the hand and skate him around the rink to a screaming crowd - of course not a figure skating crowd who would rejoice over this but a Habs crowd that would be on their feet screaming "Let go of that kid you freak" and then one of them - a really big one - would make his way down to the ice and flip Figure Skating Man on his ass, pull off his shirt and throw him into the boards.

I've gone off track and I apologize. So there we would be dancing on the ice and the crowd would be dancing as well. "I'm bringing sexy back" would be blasting from the speakers and everyone would be thinking "Wow I didn't know Bill Clinton could dance - check out those moves - he's almost as good as Justin Timberlake"

After the game (extremely overheated and sweating profusely in our costumes) we would head to St. Laurent (or as us Anglophones say St. Lawrence) ....

Sidebar - for my new readers from Latvia - St.Laurent is a very long street in Montreal where many well known restaurants are such as Schwartz's, The Main and Moishes. There are also a group of trendy eateries that are fashionable amongst celebrities and professional athletes who visit our fine city. Many of the regular folk like to frequent them as well pretending to be celebrities and professional athletes but they're not.




Let's talk about Schwartz's for a moment - shall we?
People line up to eat here. It's a very small restaurant so that means you often eat with your elbows touching strangers elbows. Their specialty is "smoked meat" which is hard to describe if you have never seen or tasted it. Imagine meat that is stringy, reddish, smoked, peppered and naturally sidelined in fat. Now imagine eating that with all the fat, some of the fat, none of the fat. It goes in little, tiny pieces of rye bread with mustard and a pickle on the side. It does not fit in your mouth so it ends up all over you and your plate. You can also order french fries and cole slaw. The men who cut and serve from behind the counter have been there as long as the smoked meat. You have to smile and be nice to them - I can't tell you why - just trust me. They hang some smoked meat in the window which if you stare at it long enough, you may come to your senses and just head to the nearest vegetarian restaurant.

There are two things I can almost guarantee you -
1 - Never trust anyone who says "I can almost guarantee you" because almost means they can't.
2 - After eating this meal, you will be in need of breath fresheners. Oh and also if you are bringing someone you have been dating and have not slept with yet and you think tonight is going to be the night. You are wrong.

So now that I have no idea what my original subject matter was or what I am writing about I will continue.

Justin and I make our way down to St.Laurent still as Bill and Hillary and we do actually go to Schwartz's however as always there is a line and Justin doesn't want to wait and he would really like to have a great big juicy Montreal steak. Need I say more? We head off to Moishes, another Montreal Restaurant Landmark - STEAK.

We sit down and the sweet scent of steaks on the grill and french fries fill the holes in our masks that serve as our nostrils. I look at Justin and smile but I'm wearing Hillary so you can't see me smile. He however is Bill and he is not only smiling he is taking in all the beautiful, fashionable Montreal women.

Our food arrives and we know that if we are going to be able to chew and chow down, the masks have to come off. On the count of 4 (cause it's always 3 or 10 - why not 4?)our true identities are revealed.

There are gasps and stares coming from the other tables. Justin is praying that they all leave him alone at least long enough for him to eat his steak and then inevitably it happens - one of the women in black with black hair and black and not quite blond hair stands up and yells

"I told you it was that crazy Cohen girl"

Justin - call me.