I think it has something to do with the fact that I can totally relate to the big faux pas she describes. Her inability to tell a short story feels pretty familiar, too. The anecdote also happens to combine the sneaky hilariousness that is Pamela Ribon with a fun -- yes, fun! -- anecdote about the decidedly not-fun WGA strike, mixes in some House writer name-dropping, and features some other random famous people (because everyone in Hollywood eats lunch together).
No excerpt will do it justice --you've got to read Name Dropping... and Shattering in its entirety for the ultimate payoff. But here's a taste:
You gotta read the whole thing though.
Recently, Sara, Liz and I decide to get post-picket lunch. We end up meeting at a sushi place where we're informed it's closing in five minutes, so we have to order quickly. We agree, and as I walk to the restroom to wash my hands, I see the only other occupied table in the restaurant. It's Jimmy Kimmel, with some friends.
When I get back to our table, there's some light, quiet joking that the women dressed in full-on Strike gear could potentially end up in a rumble with Kimmel and his co-workers. ("That'll get Nikki Finke posting again!")
After we've placed our order, Jimmy Kimmel and his friends get up to leave. We quietly watch them go, wondering if this is awkward or just Hollywood these days.
"Jimmy Kimmel looks tired," Liz comments.
"Jimmy Kimmel drives a nice car," I say, watching him climb into his vehicle.
The waitress approaches us. "By the way," she says. "That man just paid your check."
There's a moment of stunned shock as the three of us stare at each other. Then I ran out to the parking lot, waving my hand, shouting, "Thank you! Seriously! Thank you!"
He laughed, said no problem, and drove away.