My friend and I were talking about Jesse Williams last night

because, in addition to


he’s also educated and funny and eats like someone who enjoys food and is chill*

Her: why can’t he just do something terrible? why can’t he kick a puppy? or vote republican? or litter? anything.

Me: maybe he’s a secret youtube troll

Her: maybe he likes nickelback

Me: he appreciates ashton, but wishes charlie sheen were back on two and a half men

Her: he has a soul patch and has a vanity license plate that reads “the jesse”

Me: he thinks 50 shades of grey is a good book

Her: he prefers the star wars prequels

Me: he’s excited about the misfits american remake

Her: he only likes american cheese

Her:  he loves going to the dmv

Me: he’s glad justin timberlake stopped making music

Her: he doesn’t “get” kanye west (yes he uses quotes around the word get)

Me: he’s not a mac or a pc–all linux all day son

Her: he pokes people on facebook

at which point, I tapped out, because it was incredibly late and I had managed to laugh off my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

*How do I know he’s chill?

Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we?

I decided on a whim to stop by Hotel Cafe to visit my friend Austin who was bartending there. Not exactly planning for a Hollywood night out, I was in some jeans and a ratty old black Old Navy hoodie and some flip flops. I’d been there maybe an hour or so, and it was crowded by then, when I looked down the bar and who do I see? Jesse OMG THAT IS YOUR FACE PRAISE ALL OF THE GODS PRAISE THEM Williams. Now, because this is my life, as fate would have it, I had just been discussing him (with the same friend) a few days before that because of course. He got his drinks and went inside the music room.
I freaked out. Clearly.
So I had Austin make me a shot before I went in to talk to him.

I go inside and he’s standing with his friend.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt–well, that’s not true, of course I mean to interrupt, but I don’t mean to be rude.” And we kinda all laughed about that for a second and I told him that he was so gorgeous that I would have felt remiss not saying anything.
“Thank you. Thank you. I’m sure it’s just the lighting.”
“No, I’m sure it’s just genetics. You should send your parents a card that says ‘Good Job!’.”
I think we may have talked a little then about who they were there to see, but I didn’t want to turn cute moment into awkward moment so I said my farewells, went back to the bar and got another shot.

I’m back at the bar, talking to Austin, and there’s thismuch room between me and the wall when, next thing I know, there he is RIGHT NEXT TO ME at which point I started to hum that old negro spiritual in my head, “Don’t stop get it get it.”
Just kidding.
I died and then was reincarnated on the spot.
He was getting a couple more drinks for him and his friend and we ended up talking for like 20 minutes. We even said the same thing at the same time! TWICE!
Eventually, he realized the ice was melting so he turned to go back inside, but not before saying that we should continue what we were talking about later.
I died and then was reincarnated on the spot a second time.
I called my friend Courtney to come down and we, inadvertently, ended up following him and his friends to the table area across from the back bar and to Kitchen 24 (a restaurant across the street). The host even sat us at the table right next to theirs. I was a little worried that he would think we–or more to the point, I–were following him.
And we only sort of were.

We never did finish our conversation though.

About J.

A former twentysomething with a head full of curls and heart full of questions wondering: when we get to nirvana, will there be food?
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