"Hi, I'm ColdChef. Perhaps you've heard of me? I'm famous on the internets."

I have never approached a celebrity. In fact, I never would. It feels devaluing to me. I have noticed, of course, when they have been around, but I can't bring myself to act any differently. Southern California is thick with them.

(This was put to the test when, one concert, I sat directly behind Anthony Steward Head. But I maintained.)

Oh man, if you do happen to approach Carrie Fisher, tell her she's my fave, for me, please! (her recent "hummingbird nest . . . It’s like a euphemism for something magical." blog post worked its way into lots of my conversations this week)

O danf, I am certain I would not have been able to resist saying something to him. I'd hope I'd keep my cool about it, but Anthony Steward Head! I have a small crush on him.

In Santa Barbara once, I was playing this open mike night-signed up for a late slot. . .(I had come from LA where midnight was about the peak of the night, which was not true for SB). Anyway, Jim Messina was in there drinking with a couple of friends, and hardly anyone else was around.

When I finished my set, I purposely walked by his table, on the way out, sort of hoping for a comment, but none was forthcoming. That's about the closest I have come to actually approaching a celebrity.

Just use your most excellent ColdChef people skills and read them first. If they look like they want to be approached, say something. If not, respect that.

If you use some sense about the setting, I think you can offer pen and paper and ask for an autograph, or just say "I loved you latest book/movie/cd" My sister cheezed out and sent her then-6 daughter to ask Robert Redford for an autograph. She says he was kind, but declined.

Funny you should mention this.

I simply don't approach them. Maybe if I saw, like, Cormac McCarthy on the street, I might give him a simple compliment and walk on.

I actually saw Madonna last night in Columbus Circle. She was at the southwest corner of the park, facing west, towards the fountain, and appeared to be walking in the direction of the Upper West Side.

I caught a glimpse of her from about ten-fifteen feet away, immediately recognized her and kept walking.

Was it shyness? Eh, maybe. I'm also big on privacy and respecting people's personal space.

*would like to get ColdChef's autograph*

Do you have a business card? Because if you had a business card, it'd be a lot easier. Like, you could just walk up to some famous person and hand them your card and say, "Hey, I'm ColdChef, nice to meet you. Let me know if I can ever provide you with any funeral services or anything. I can give you a good deal. Not that you look older in person or anything. That's not what I meant at all. I mean, you can't even see the marks from the Botox injections or anything. I didn't mean it that way. I just meant, you know, if you ever need anything. Like if that starlet you're rumored to be banging just like, you know, ODs in your hotel room or something and you don't want to call the cops, just give me a ring. I can take care of you, man. All the way. Call me." Then you give a smoove-move fist bump and you're in, baby. In.

I'm not an "autograph" kind of person, but I'd love to compliment someone whose work I admire. I wouldn't approach Trishelle from Real World Las Vegas, but you better believe that if I saw Harry Shearer in a restaurant, I'd let him know that I value everything he's done to help New Orleans after Katrina.

What I'm looking for is advice along the lines of "Wait until their check is paid" or "Don't approach before they have drinks." Is there any kind of etiquette on that? Also, if I saw Harry Shearer, I'd want to buy him a drink. Does anyone do that anymore?

"Hi, I'm ColdChef. Perhaps you've heard of me? I'm famous on the internets."

Hah!

Like if that starlet you're rumored to be banging just like, you know, ODs in your hotel room or something and you don't want to call the cops, just give me a ring.

Carrie Fisher has actually woken up with a dead man in her bed, so that's a good in for her.

Do it like this.

I saw several celebrities when I lived in SoCal, but never approached any. I don't know if I'd ever get up the nerve to do so.

I think just commenting on his/her work (not asking for an autograph) would be acceptable just about any time except while s/he is eating or on the toilet.

It seems pretty common sense to me - like rainbaby said, just scope out their body language, don't interrupt their conversation, and be polite. I've never had the courage to approach a celebrity, but since you'll clearly be from out-of-town I don't think there's any harm in going for it - if they take offense it's not like it'll ruin your life or anything.

...and while I realize that it won't be like in the movies where you see famous people everywhere you go

Oddly enough, in some parts of LA it IS like in the movies. The tricky part is that I have a hard time recognizing a celebrity on the street, when they're wearing normal clothes.

Hmm... I think it depends on the event.

A friend of mine was invited to the premiere and after-party of LOTR:ROTK as a friend of a friend, but she was also a huge fan. So at the after-party, when everyone was milling around the stars, she would stand respectfully near the celeb in question until his/her attention was turned towards her, she'd introduce herself politely (Hi, my name is "Cindy", I really love your work, I created a Gimli costume and won some awards at Comic Con the previous year) and then ask, "Would you please sign this?" Every actor was gracious enough to respond to her request, even if this was an event that was limited to other celebs, studio execs, etc.

Funny you mention celebrities today; I ran into Alec Baldwin today at my corner coffee shop. He must be shooting 30 Rock over at Silvercup. There was a car waiting outside for him.

I gave him a look that said "Get the fuck out of my way, I haven't had my morning coffee yet." He moved.

I wouldn't.

My mother--oddly enough--has been the only person in an elevator with Yoko Ono, twice. Each time mom has nodded and said "Hello." and so has Yoko Ono. Of course, both times Yoko Ono handed mom some little slip of paper with a word or two written on it, which are now somewhere in my mother's studio.

That's pretty much what I would do. Make eye contact, say hello, and if it seems like it's not interrupting too much, add "I am very much a fan of your writing. Thank you for sharing it." (assuming we're still talking about Carrie Fisher. Not Yoko Ono, I'm not much of a fan.)

You have to lie. They often do not take kindly to your saying something like "If it weren't for people like me, you would be pissing in some back alley." Just one of those things.

"Boy, Miss Fisher, when I think of how many potential children I wasted while thinking of you in that gold bikini..."

There are only a few celebrities that I'd want to approach and I pretty much know what I'd say. The rest of them, I leave alone if we haven't been introduced or something. It seems kind of strange - what am I doing talking to them? Letting them know I noticed them? What for? What do they get out of that? How about me? What is the purpose of the interaction?

If there were some way to have an authentic interaction, then I'd go for that. Like, if you can make a joke about the shrimp at the buffet, then your story will always be "I once created an animated shrimp character for Jennifer Aniston at a buffet." rather than "I walked up to Jennifer Aniston and interrupted her conversation so I could have an interaction with her."

I really think one of the least pleasant things about being famous would be having to have an endless string of conversations complimenting you: "Thank you. Yes. Thanks. That's lovely of you to say. Well, thanks. Have a good evening now. Thanks."

Garrison Kiellor has a great short story about a songwriter who was hounded by fans and inadvertently killed by one. The story ends with a list of recommendations of just they type you're looking for, some of which I'm going to transcribe:

Tens of thousands of people have approached very famous men and women intending to brighten the lonely lives of the great with a few simple words of admiration, only to be rejected and abused for their thoughtfulness. To the stars, of course, such encounters are mere momentary irritations in their fast-paced sensational lives and are quickly forgotten, but for the sensitive fans personal rejection by an idol becomes a permanent scar. It could easily be avoided if, when approaching the celebrated, those who practically worship them would just use a little common sense:

1. Never grab or paw the famous. They will instantly recoil and you will never ever win their respect. Stand at least thirty-two inches away...

2. Don't gush, don't babble, don't grovel or fawn. Never snivel. Be tall. Bootlicking builds a wall you'll never break through. A simple pleasantry is enough: eg, "Like your work!" If you need to say more than that ("I think you're the most wonderful lyric poet in America today") try to modify your praise slightly ("...but your critical essays really suck.") Or cough hard, about five times. That relieves the celebrity of having to fawn back. The most wearisome aspect of fame is the obligation to look stunned by each compliment as though it were the first ever heard. That's why an odd remark ("Your last film gave me the sensation of being a horned toad lying on a hot highway") may secretly please the famous person more than a cliche ("I adore you and my family adores you and everyone I know in the entire world thinks you are a genius and with your permission I will fall down on the sidewalk and writhe for a while"). Be cool. Famous people much prefer a chummy insult to lavish nonsense: a little dig about the exorbitant price of tickets to the star's show, perhaps,or the cheesiness of the posters ("you design those yourself?"). Or a remark about the celebrity's pet (if any) like, "How much did you pay for that dog?" Personal dirt ("Do you have to shave twice a day? Do you use regular soap or what? What was it like when you found that out about her going out with him?") can wait for later. For now, limit yourself to the dog. As it gazes up in mealymouthed, brown-nosed lickspittle devotion, glance down and say "be cool."

3. Autographs are fine, photos are fine, but be cool. Don't truckle ("Oh please please, I'll do anything, anything at all") don't pander ("This is the high point of my life") and never cringe or kowtow ("I kjnow this is just about the tackiest thing a person can do and it makes me sick with shame but..") and never, never lie ("My mother, who is 87, is dying in CT and it would mean the world to her if..."). Hand the famous person the paper and simply say "I need you to sign this." Hand the camera to one of his hangers-on and say "Can you take a picture of us?"

Alternatively, I suggest you start off with "I'm ColdChef from MetaFilter. Who the hell are you?"

I've seen a bunch of celebs over the years, and I almost never approach them in a setting where they're just off being themselves -- e.g., shopping, at a gallery, etc. I have made a couple of exceptions, though, and the way I've handled it was to catch their eye, smile warmly, and quietly say something like "I enjoy your work so much and just wanted to thank you." I don't ask for an autograph, don't offer my hand to shake (unless they offer theirs first), and don't continue the conversation beyond that unless they initiate it beyond saying "thank you."

This has always gone over very well, and in one case resulted in said celeb insisting on carrying my groceries out to my car. (Oh, all right: it was J. J. Jackson. And he was so nice. And he died like two weeks later.)

Of course, where you're in a situation where celebs are purposely in attendance -- i.e., they're there because of who they are -- I've found it's fine to be a little more forthright, in the sense of maybe trying to start a (relevant-to-the-situation) conversation beyond a modest "I love your work."

And then there's Paul Weller, who at this point I just run to with open arms.

Oh! And there was the time I saw Curtis Armstrong at a cafe shortly after I moved to L.A., and I had this totally weird brain-blip wherein he didn't register as "actor who was in all those funny movies I liked in high school" but rather "funny guy I KNEW in high school," and so I marched right up to him and started talking to him in this sort of "hey! Wow! Fancy seeing you here! How ya doing? What's up?!" kind of way.

And he -- bless him -- either was sweet enough to play along or actually thought that perhaps he really did know me from somewhere (hey, it's L.A.; you meet a lot of people over the years) and so he chatted back in the same vaguely friendly way for awhile. Then he left, and I went back to reading my book, and then ten minutes later I was like OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE.

I also had a similar (though even more embarrassing) encounter with Marc Maron at the Magic Castle once, because I had had one too many Manhattans and he looks just a little too much like my boyfriend's former roomate.

I don't know that I'll ever be able to drink a Manhattan without cringing ever again.

God bless Booger.

Curtis Armstrong seems like he might be both affable and easily befuddled by a sufficiently friendly person.

Okay, so. At the library one day, I see a fellow I vaguely know, though I can't remember quite who he is. I nod a greeting. He nods back. We walk our separate ways.

A week or so later, I pass the same guy on the street. I nod and say "Hi," he nods and says "Hi."

We keep bumping into each other, at the farmer's market, in the city square, at the video store, on the main street, and quite often at or outside the library. (It's a small city, or a large town, depending how you want to define your terms.) And each time I see him, I nod a hello, and each time, he answers with a nod or a hello, but neither of us ever stops to say more than that. I can't quite place him, and it bugs me for a few minutes after each meeting.

And then one day after a meeting, I realize why I can't remember where we've met: we haven't met, he's a local news anchor. His face is terrifically familiar to me, but of course he doesn't know me.

Uh. Except.

The next time I pass him in the street, he waves and says, "Hi!" I say "Hi!" back. From now on, every time he sees me, he greets me, presumably thinking he knows me from somewhere.

And it's been going on for, oooooh, five or six years now.

God bless him, indeed!

(Booger, that is. But also the friendly newscaster who waves to Elsa now!)

I'm going to wager a guess here that Mr. Armstrong has various patches of fuzzy memory that you could easily focus yourself into.

For that same reason, if I ever run into Seth Rogen, I'm going to ask him for that hundred bucks he owes me. He'll have no idea.

I recently enjoyed Hammond Rye's story about chasing Wallace Shawn up Bleecker St.

1. If they are busy, engaged in conversation, or on the phone, don’t approach them. Don't go up to them and wait for them to finish either, just keep walking.

2. if you can, compliment them on something they have done that seems cpersonally important, i.e. if you see Carrie Fisher, tell her you loved one of her books or "Wishful Drinking", not OMG LEIA!!!

3. Asking for an autograph is tacky, avoid it if you can. If you must ask, be polite and take no for an answer.

4. Let them get on with their day as soon as possible. Going to the grocery store would be agony for you if everytime you did it you were stopped 10 times by someone wanting to chat.

5. If they are rude, realize that they are probably constantly interrupted by people who are probably not as polite as you. You know them, they have no clue who you are.

if you see Carrie Fisher, tell her you loved one of her books or "Wishful Drinking"

The reason I pulled her name (in fact the reason why I posted this) is because I just finished "Wishful Drinking" and I'm swooning with admiration and love for her.

I think I'd open with, "You know that part in your recent book where you talked about little boys jerking off to you in the 80s?"

I suspect Carrie Fisher would laugh her ass off if you used that as an opening line with her.

Queen Latifah was reported as coming into the store I work at. I had yet to see her, until one night. She was standing in front of the seafood case. I was totally starstruck. Since I work in the meat room anyway, I asked if she needed anything. She quite nicely replied that she was just looking. I then said "Pardon me, but are you Queen Latifah?" She smiled and said she was, and I squeaked (quietly), told her how much I admire her, and asked for her autograph. She was very nice and gave it to me. She's even more beautiful in person than on the screen.

She's the only one I've approached. Debbie Harry from Blondie shops here as well, but even though I've spoken to her, I don't bother her.

Coldchef, if you run into Carrie Fisher, invite her on over here with the bunnies. She'd fit right in.(And fwiw she should be honored to meet YOU. And could only hope she'd be good enough to be honored with one of your mix cd's at Christmas. So there!)

I've met a few celebrities - mostly musicians - some of whom I've had brief conversations with. I try to treat them how I's like to be treated: like a peer.

My grandfather, in a highway traffic jam (it was a closure due to an accident) on a hot day, got out of his car and bumped into Robert Conrad. He said simply, "I'm [Grampa Plinth]. Do you want a beer?"

I have a short list of people for whom I try to remember obscure work so that if I run into them, I can have a conversation like this:

(To Hugh Laurie)
"Oh, oh, oh! I know you! You're that guy in...uh...damn, what is that *show*?!"
"House?"
"Nnnnnno, that's not it. I know it, it's on the tip of my tongue... you play that guy in costume..."
"Black Adder?"
"Nnnnnoooo."
repeat until the point where he looks exasperated, and say "You were on the Emma Thompson Show! Wow! You were great in that! Have you done anything lately?"

"oh hey, I'm ColdChef. You're busy? No biggie."

Fix them with a mysterious state.

"We'll meet again, I'm sure of it."

We were in LA last summer. Ran into Larry Flynt at Mr. Chows. I smiled, he smiled. I didn't have the nerve to actually say anything.

Don't do what I did. I was living in Montana and Dennis Quaid was shooting a movie in the neighboring town. I actually didn't know about the movie - was just going to do some shopping - and I accidentally walked into the set (not while they were shooting). Then I walked right into DQ. I am not making this up. I didn't know what to say, so I was all, "Uh, excuse me, I'm sorry, uh..." He just looked mildly annoyed, and that was the end of that.

HE IS MUCH HOTTER IN PERSON THOUGH. (10 years ago, at least.)

I also met Glenn Close, Michael Keaton, and Jane Fonda while I was working at a swanky version of REI (mountaineering/camping gear). Keaton was very nice, albeit distracted since he was with his kid. I didn't talk to Close too much. I avoided Fonda; she was a total bitch to one of our sales staff.

Talking to famous steel players is easy. You just ask them which system of intonation they use and what their copedant is like. The best part is when you start discussing which knee lever does which and muscle memory kicks in and you end up with three grown men balancing on one foot swinging their knees wildly from side to side.

In terms of not-quite-celebrity encounters, I strongly recommend against talking at length about your crush on an alt-country chanteuse in the presence of an ex-boyfriend of hers. It's just fucking awkward.

And if you do meet carrie fisher, let her know that she becomes more and more awesome with each passing year.

Oh yeah, there was also a sport climber of awesome ability who made the controversial decision to have breast implant to go from, like, an A cup to a C cup. Climbers being climbers, there was controversy and het up articles in magazines (that's what we had before the internet). A sweet, happily married woman (back when that was reserved for heterosexuals) in her late forties or early fifties that I had climbed with in Cody told me about running into the recently implanted climber at a gathering in Ouray (IIRC). "I touched $Climber's Name's breasts!" Neither of them were watching where they were going and there was an awkward breast collision. Don't do that.

If you climbed in the 90s you know who I'm talking about. She's taken enough shit about her boobs that I don't want her next vanity search to pull up another story about them.

Pack a lunch and read Stephen Fry's Let Fame. You'll be well prepped to meet him, at the very least. A taste:

Scale matters. If you’re accosted on average once a week, it’s charming. You can give a little time to the one who stopped you, be delighted by their knowing who you are and the whole thing can be a most pleasant and mutually satisfying interchange. If you are stopped every ten minutes then it’s a whole different deal. You keep your head down, pretend to be on the phone, wear dark glasses and generally hope to pass unnoticed. Or you get someone else to do your shopping, tube travelling and general street-using for you, sitting in the back of a Lexus most days and never interacting with the rest of the human race except when surrounded by burly security men who place their palms in the faces of anyone who dares to come near. Which is sad and can engender the reputation of being standoffish, grand and all the rest of it, but if the alternative is not being able to move around very easily, who can blame those afflicted with that level of fame?

Talking to famous steel players is easy.

I have met Red Rhodes (brother was taking lessons) and Buddy Emmons (jamming with some people once.)

Steel players are the geeks of the musician world.

I've probably told this story before, but it's my favorite celeb encounter. An former co-worker of mine is a HUGE Clapton fan. One day while he was walking down the street in NYC, Clapton happens to walk out of a building and begin walking down the street in the same direction. I don't know how he managed to keep this cool, but my friend pulls out one of his earbuds and says to Clapton, "Hey Eric, I'm having dinner with [some guy he knows who knows Clapton] tomorrow, I'll tell him you said hi." Taken aback, Clapton says something like, "oh, ok, thanks!" Then my friend puts his earbud back in and goes on his way.

Jesus christ, you met buddy emmons? A better steel player than I said that playing pedal steel is not entirely different from playing buddy emmons' brain.

Eh, I have only a couple of boring non-meeting-celebrity stories.

* Bill Murray shopping in Banana Republic on the UWS in the 1980s, apparently in some sort of altered state.

* Peter Boyle eating in the same restaurant as I was, apparently with family. I ran out of my drink, and when I reached high to signal my waiter, Boyle gave this terrified look like I was waving at him.

* There was this girl at Blues Fest in Chicago who looked exactly like Helen Hunt, but like, ten years ago. She also seemed used to but not entirely happy with double takes.

Told this more than once, I'm sure. I once lived for 4 months in LA when I was 21. All this was in '89, so I'm totally giving away my age.

Literally bumped into Johnny Depp in a doorway. Excuse me, no excuse me exchange. That quiet demeanor he has for interviews seems to be his default mode. OMG! He seemed so thin at the time. I'm still smitten, obviously, and glad that guy worked out some problems. Hell, I'm just happy I didn't try to hump his leg right there.

Same night, I sat in a booth next to where Boy George was getting interviewed about being allowed back in the states. My friends and I just sat and eavesdropped.

Waited on Henry Winkler because my coworkers were all freaking out about "The Fonz" being in the store. He was just looking for a thing; I helped him find it. It was a very pleasant exchange.

Spielberg and entourage came in where I was working once. I only dealt with the "help" and pretended to not notice. They all seemed to appreciate it. Considering where I worked, they were looking for set decoration or office stuff. I have no idea.

I would totally love to meet Carrie Fisher and give her some much earned respect.

Jesus christ, you met buddy emmons?

One night I tagged along to hang out with some musician friends. I was easily the worst musician in the room, but it was the kind of thing where a song would be played, then everyone got a "middle 8" to play. It was friendly, not a "head-cutting" scene, but rather daunting. Of course, a nose full of coke helped the confidence, if not the musicianship.

So yeah. . .and another time, the steel player for Commander Cody (forget his name). . .same deal. Nobody invited me into a band at any of those. . .damn.

I've met shedloads of celebs in that place where I can't say who I've seen there. I act as if they're anyone else, but I do notice that they get the 'staring' treatment a lot and when (if) they speak, the whole room falls utterly silent.

A few months ago I went to a meeting in the arse-end of Ilford where the speaker was someone I thought I knew. I asked her "do you go to such-and-such meeting? No? How about this one? No? I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before." Then as she shared her story, I felt like the biggest doof on earth, because I realised where I'd seen her - she'd won an Oscar a number of years ago. After the meeting I said "Oh God, I'm so sorry" but she was great, really down to earth and a very sweet lady about my gaucheness.

I had a minor celeb encounter on the 7 train last Friday with my all-time favourite Top Chef contestant, who was very nice indeed and seemed quite surprised that he was recognised such a long time after the show. We had a three-minute chat and he was a sweetie.

A co-worker and I had a fantastic encounter with Goran Visnic about seven years ago. She was crazy about him, never missed ER and the day after the show aired she would yak constantly about "Dr Luca" (she never called him Dr Kovac).

One lunchtime we were walking over to Canary Wharf and there seemed to be a lot of people about. We just walked through them and across this little bridge (at the time, they had a sort of funny temporary pontoon bridge across the dock). As we crossed, two men were coming towards us, one of them very tall (at least 6' 4) and stunningly handsome. I grabbed my friend's arm and said "Look! It's Dr Luca!" And it was!

As he approached, deep in conversation, my friend virtually threw herself in his path and said "You're Dr Luca, aren't you? OMG! OMG! I can't believe I've met Dr Luca!!" He smiled and said "Yes... yes I am." and then we heard "CUT!" We'd walked into a film set. We were both so excited that we forgot to ask which film it was, and it wasn't until a few years later that I was looking through the TV guide and saw a film set in London that he was in. I thought it might be the same one. It was called "Doctor Sleep" and the scene we ruined was the very last scene of the film. (We were not in it, they cut us out, bastards. I think my hysterical co-worker virtually peeing her pants in front of her hero would have made the movie something very special. Instead it went straight to DVD.)

I was in LA for a conference a few years ago, and the hotel we were staying in was the venue to a Billy Joel tribute the night before the Grammies. The place was rumored to be SWARMING with celebrities just walking around the hotel lobby. My colleague, who flew in for the meeting from India, and I grabbed an elevator on our hotel floor to head down to people watch and OMG, in the elevator was the one and only Stevie Wonder with his bodyguard. It was so surreal. We jerked back with surprise, and I said, "Hello, Mr. Wonder." He smiled and said hello back. He and his bodyguard moved forward to get ready to step out once the elevator stopped. My friend and I were behind him miming our shock and surprise and yeah, even though he's blind, I wondered if he could tell we were silently screaming with joy behind his back.

I peed with one of the guys from ZZ Top. I was with some friends at the Rendezvous in Memphis, ZZ Top came in, and I went to pee when one of them went.

I flirted with Jeanne Tripplehorn at an airport once, but it may not count because I didn't know she was actually her. Later I said to my sister, "she looks like that actress Jeanne Tripplehorn," and my sister said, "that is Jeanne Tripplehorn."