Yesterday was one of those days. I don’t have them often, but when they happen, I just shake my head and wonder, “How did I find my way here?”
There I was, sitting at lunch, trying to decide if I’d have a piece of baked eel sushi as a follow up to my spicy tuna roll when my partner’s cellphone rang. She took the call and, before we knew it, our evening was planned. We were going to help a friend out and be messengers for the night. Our task, deliver a check to a fancy dinner. That’s all we knew. “Call such and such number and things will be set up,” said the voice on the other end of the line.
Always ones up for an adventure, we made the call to such and such number and found out we’d be having dinner with Al Gore. It’s always fun to see Al speak, so we figured we’d have some stuffed mushrooms, chicken satay, and a drink as we enjoyed our evening out with 200 other people. People watching is never a problem for these two messengers.
While the evening out went against our general rule against going to the westside, we plodded along Wilshire to our destination for the evening. Turns out, the dinner with Al Gore wasn’t for 200, it was a backyard dinner party for about 80. And, Arianna Huffington was there too! I think it’s because I’m a blogger, but seeing her was almost better than seeing Al Gore. In this regard, I share a friend’s secret crush on Arianna. “She’s wicked smart and a confident independent thinker who just says what she thinks,” my friend says.
While I didn’t actually get to talk to her (or Al for that matter) or get any pictures (I kept the camera in the back pocket of my suit pants—no crazy photog in me), I did manage to grab some evidence of my evening with Al and Arianna. Here’s a picture of the purloined placecard settings. Yep, that’s mine too. I tell you, this messenger even had her own place at the table.
But wait, the luck didn’t stop there for me yesterday. As I was driving home, before dinner with Al and Arianna, I received another phone call. This one equally unexpected.
It was from a client. A client I rarely speak to, but who, for whatever circumstance, has me on his list of people to call when he has tickets. I’ve never been invited to use his tickets before, but because Wednesday seems to have been “see if Laura is available at the last minute day” I received an invitation.
Want to guess the event?
Lakers game against the San Antonio Spurs. Floor seats, under the basket.
I hope that lottery ticket pays off too. This may be my lucky week (even if it has me feeling a little like Forrest Gump—you know, working my way into places where I’m really not supposed to be).