i flew down to saint louis for my sixth annual choreography session this weekend. ensconced comfortably in my aisle seat, i broke out a magazine and dialed up the ipod to the "chillax" playlist for a short but pleasant ride.
have you ever found yourself just honing in on an annoying sound? since my hermetically-sealing sony earbuds have all but decomposed from the corrosive effluvia that is my earwax, i was rocking the stupid white ipod phones through which you can hear everything. i could not help but focus on this particularly loud, raspy baritone voice from in front of me. i tried to let it go, remembering that i also have trouble selecting the correct volume of voice since i can't always hear well, but this squawking was accompanied by bursts of foulness. the voice had apparently tied one on the night before and was exhaling the reek of metabolized booze. this man's liver was kicking out smoke signals like crazy.
i finally looked up to see... charlie o'connell, also known as the bachelor. he was seated next to some schlubby midwestern businessman who had no idea who he was, and they were helping each other with crossword puzzles. awww...
it didn't seem like he ever really let on that he was an actor [and who could blame him? he's in a crappy coach seat.] but his volume seemed a little desperate. i wondered if he was annoyed no one seemed to recognize him. i just wanted to stop huffing his pickled insides.
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