When I moved to LA, I thought I would see famous people everywhere I looked. In reality, I rarely see celebrities, though recently sightings have picked up. I saw John Francis Daley (Bones/Freaks and Geeks/Waiting) for the second time at the Burbank movie theater, Rosario Dawson at the Venice boardwalk, and David Krumholtz walking in front of me on the sidewalk in Westwood. Those I'm pretty sure about. However, I often think I see famous people, when they turn out to be not who I thought they were. Which makes gawking at them even more awkward.
Case in point, I was driving home from work the other day when I could have sworn I saw Sawyer/Josh Holloway from Lost driving a silver Porsche down Wilshire. How did I know it was him? I identified his sideburn. When I drove closer I realized that in fact it was not a hulking, blonde Southern television star, but a scrawny 24ish Persian guy who, according to his license plate frame, is a USC law student. Ok, that one was a bit off. But one of these days, I'm going to meet someone really famous, and it will actually be them. Instead of whatever the opposite of a doppelganger is.