Tall Star Struck

Picture this: I'm getting on the elevator in the hotel, dragging enough luggage and totes to make me qualify as a genuine bag lady, and without thinking I say to the other inhabitant, "Good Lord you're tall. Do you play basketball?" Indeed he did. He was Kendrick Perkins, of the Boston Celtics in Pittsburgh for a pre-season game against Cleveland. So of course my mind reaches for the most un-suave thing I could say: "Wow, my husband would be impressed. I'm from Philly, so I'm not a fan of the Celtics, but good luck today!" Like, I'm not impressed but someone else would be(although I'm sure I looked impressed with that stupid grin on my face), and good luck, but not good luck. I'm surprised the guy didn't run away as fast as he could! He was nice, he asked what I was in Pittsburgh for- and didn't look too surprised at my crazy star-struck attempt at a normal conversation. Hey, I meant well.

So it got me thinking - how would I handle being famous? Would I be able to smile at the crazy people in the elevator day after day? Would I be able to sign all those autographs and take all those photos and travel that much? While doable, I don't think it's something I'd enjoy.

Also, I've seen how short the showers are here- I had to bend my head back to wash my hair and I'm only 5'9". How does someone nearing 7' fit in there? How do they manage the airplanes and the beds that are meant for someone 6'? Ugh, it must be super annoying to be that tall and famous!