Celebrity sightings in the kitchen and the Rose Room

What’s up y’all? Hope you are having a freaking magical day. Today I thought I would dazzle you with a story about me meeting a celebrity in my own kitchen.

The year was 2001 — or maybe 2002. I lived down off Cedar Springs in the River Oaks Condos with my roommate and bestie Lee. Back then, we didn’t have the fabulous dressing room for the Rose Room that we have now so, I would leave the club in drag to go home.

So, on this particular night — I think it was probably a Friday or Saturday — I get home at about 3:30 a.m. I unlock the door, walk in and notice someone standing in my kitchen wearing nothing but a towel. He sees me — the big-assed, big-haired drag queen that I am — and his eyes widen as I say hello.

It wasn’t the first time my roommate has had trade in our place, but it didn’t happen often. So I was happy Lee had gotten laid, plus the guy was cute. He says hello back and tells me he is here with Lee. I tell him I figured that and asked him to hand me a coke out of the fridge.

He does so and introduces himself: “I’m Anderson.”

I say, “I’m James, the roommate,” in my deepest voice. Then I go to my room and shut the door, thinking that the guy looked familiar. I figured I recognized him from the clubs or something.

The next morning — actually it was probably afternoon; you know, drag shit — I go in Lee’s room and say hello and congratulate him on having cute trade the night before. He says, very nonchalantly that he is apparently on the news or something.

I was like, “Wait a minute! that’s the guy from The Mole.”

Neither of us could remember his last name; Anderson Something was as far as we got.

It was Anderson Cooper, in case you haven’t managed to put together the pieces of this lame puzzle.

Back then, we only knew him from the reality show that he hosted called The Mole. I didn’t watch much of the news back then, and if I did it, wasn’t ABC. Also, his hair wasn’t as silver as it is now; it was more of a salt-and-pepper color, with more salt than pepper. He wasn’t quite the silver fox he is today.

I honestly had forgotten all about our chance kitchen meeting until about a few years ago when he was on Ellen, and I was like, “Oh fuck, that’s the guy!”

Random but kinda cool. By then he was a full-blown gay icon and a full-on silver zaddy.

Fast forward to 2018, and I am emceeing the show in the Rose Room when someone comes up to me and says that they think Anderson Cooper is standing in the back of the room. So, I casually walk to the back, and, sure enough, he is standing there with a very hot guy. You know I have no problem walking up to anyone and saying hello or whatever, so I walk right up to them and say hello to the hot guy he’s standing with — I don’t want to seem starstruck.

Finally, I turn to Mr. Cooper, say hello and ask if he remembers me. His eye’s get big, and I can see he has no idea who the fuck I am. So I just say I met you through my roommate Lee years ago. He nods in that polite way people do when they have no idea what you are talking about.

I brush it off and ask if I can get a picture with him. He very politely says no. He says he is trying to keep a low profile and doesn’t want any attention.

I am slightly disappointed, but I totally get it. I am just a local celebrity, and I have to fight off the fans with a stick. (Sarcasm!)

Anyway, he wasn’t a dick about it or anything, and I respected his space and was ready to walk off when a B.P.B. comes up to us screaming that she HAS to get a photo, that it would make her whole night and she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

(For the record, B.P.B. is a Bridal Party Bitch. You know the type — short dress, tiara, a sash and a drink with a penis straw in hand.)

My first thought was, “Oh crap! Sorry Anderson; I blew your cover.”

Then I realize she is talking to me. She has no idea who he is, but she sees a drag queen and she must have a pic. I look over at him and his friend, and we are all three laughing. Anderson, being the nice and generous guy he is, takes the girl’s phone and says, “Let me take the picture for you.”

So, as he is taking our pics, I am just shaking my head looking at him like, “You sneaky sonofabitch!” He really hammed it up, like he was a fucking professional photographer or something.

It was hilarious.

And that poor B.P.B. had no idea Anderson Cooper took that fabulous picture of her with that loud-ass drag queen.

C’est la vie!

Remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova