(enter witty title about being star struck here)

I'm always fascinated at the thought of being star-struck. I mean, for crying out loud I get intimidated by my supervisors at work or even the teachers at school whom everybody finds to be below themselves. So me sauntering up to Jennifer Anniston and being all cool, saying, "How YOU doon'?"

Ya. Right.

But that raises the question: what would I say if I met my favorite actor/actress? In this case we'll use the stunningly beautiful and talented Anna Kendrick.



Yes, this is Anna Kendrick.



Here's how I picture it, in my perfectly legitimate and unbiased opinion:

I'm just a-walkin down the street on a mid-December day, mindin' my own, when who should walk out of a Chipotle with an aluminum-foil-covered burrito right in front of me but Anna Kendrick? What're the odds?

On the inside I'm freaking out. I have to say something. She's one of my favorite, most gorgeous actresses, and odds are I'll never get this chance again! But I have to be original. Everyone probably recognizes her all the time, and I don't want to be just another face in the crowd.

Having just walked out of the restaurant on a lovely, care-free day, she's standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, debating on which way to turn and walk. Half of me wants her to walk my way so I can say hi, obviously; the other half is relieved when she doesn't. She moves away from me, but it's chilly outside, and the gloves which she had in her coat pocket have fallen out onto the ground. Show time.

"Excuse me!" Rather than turn around immediately as most would, she simply stops, as though maybe I'd leave her alone if she wasn't moving. "Excuse me?" I stoop and pick up her gloves, walking towards her, and she relents, puts on her smile for the fans, and turns around.

Most people say horrible things about cameras: that Photoshop goes a long way, or some people just look bad on screen plain and simple, but the camera doesn't do Ms. Kendrick anywhere near any kind of justice. I immediately forget that I know who she is and I see her for what's right in front of me: a beautiful brunette girl with a shining smile and eyes at which i could look all day who, for whatever reason, rather than saying the obligatory "thank you" and moving on, is still looking at me, too.

"You dropped these," I say sheepishly, looking down at the soft, white gloves. She looks down too, smiling and brushing a lock of hair back behind her ear.

"Thanks." We look at each other again, and I'm absolutely surprised with myself. I've never been so comfortable around such an attractive girl who I've just met. So I make a decision to stick with this charade that I don't know her, and push this new found comfort to the breaking point.

"I'm Elliott." She bites her lip, knowing she's only in Kansas to see family for a few weeks.

"Anna," she says as she extends her hand, which I take.

"Nice to meet you, Anna." I gesture to her burrito, "Mind if I get one of my own and join you?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" she says, not in a cheesy, flirty way, but more of a why-would-I-care-it's-a-free-country kind of way.

Ten minutes later, we're sitting at the counter in Chipotle talking about everything two strangers might talk about during an impromptu Mexican lunch. I quickly find that she has a sense of humor which makes it that much easier to be comfortable around her.

Eventually, the topic of what she does for a living has to come up, and when she says she's an actress, I play dumb for a few more questions, then it "hits me": "Holy crap! You're Anna Kendrick!"

Boom. Originality achieved.

All fame aside, I ask her how much longer she'll be in town, and she gives me her phone number; something i hope few people have gotten.

And so on,


and so forth,


for several years,


until I get a lead role in a blockbuster movie making of, "The Common Sense Book of Baby and Childcare" with Bruce Willis and Denzel Washington directed by Quentin Terentino... abridged.

And Anna Kendrick and I, of course, eventually get married. That can't NOT happen in this kinda story, I mean really.

Well that's my take. And I can have that near-premonitive opinion, because it's my blog. Take THAT, small audience!

But let's be honest. Here's how such an encounter would really go:

She comes out of Chipotle, debates which way to go, and chooses my direction. My heart pounds, but I still manage a hello and a funny remark or two without embarrassing myself or boring her (I'd at least give myself that much).

I then kick myself for months for not getting a picture with her to prove to my non-believing friends.

So if you're out there, Ms. Kendrick, and you're rolling through Kansas City anytime soon (or ever), drop me a line. Or, you know, have your people call my-...

You know what, just have them call me. I'm the only Elliott Brest on Facebook, so I'm pretty easy to get ahold of.