"I love you guys!" Or, things you shouldn't say to strangers.

So sometimes I think I see celebrities when, in reality, they’re just people going to work on a Tuesday. But sometimes I totally do see celebrities! And sometimes I yell random things at them out of love that kind of creep them out. Like the one time I saw Bethenny Frankel, her husband, and their baby waiting to cross the street when I was walking home from work one day.

Ok, hang on: for those of you who don’t know who Bethenny Frankel is OR if you do, you wouldn’t consider her a “celebrity”, then you’re either Courtney, or you’re probably someone who might not enjoy my blogging. Because I often refer to people that other people haven’t heard of as “celebrities.” Like when I totally saw that bald guy from MTV who used to do all the heavy metal reviews back in the 90s and tried to get anyone else to know who I was talking about and failed? Yeah, I call him a “celebrity sighting.” Or that guy who played Olivia Benson’s ex-boyfriend on that one episode of Law and Order: SVU who definitely probably lives in the neighborhood where I work? Celebrity sighting.

Oh, also, it’s important to note that, more than once, I’ve had to literally be grabbed by the arm by friends on the street just so they can get my attention. Apparently my beacon of observation is finely honed to only be used on people like Kate Winslet, Julie Stiles, and that guy who’s in the Allstate commercials dressed as Mayhem. TOTALLY see him everywhere!

I m Mayhem! Also, I may live somewhere in SoHo.

Anyway, back to shouting at reality tv stars. So as everyone else walks by like normal people, I start panic-thinking (which always leads somewhere good) to figure out the exact perfect time to yell at them as I walk by so they know how much I love them but also totally respect their privacy as regular New Yorkers. So as I get to the point where I’m just about to walk by, I yell (from about 7 feet away) “I love you guys!” and then keep walking. She turns and smiles and says “Thank you!” and then I casually keep walking as if I didn’t just shout at someone.

Oh, and there’s the time I chased after a guy I was convinced was my #3 crush, Dr. Drew Pinsky, for 4 city blocks. But then I got up next to him, stared him in the face, and realized he was just a nice, middle-aged Hispanic fellow going to work. My bad, Dr. Hispanic Drew, my bad.

Not to be mistaken for Dr. Hispanic Drew.