Below is the exaggerated transcript of what happened at the Lindsay Lohan media cocktail.
1230hrs. The media cocktail for Lindsay Lohan starts. But first, the rules.
- The lovely Lindsay. pic: F1 Rocks Singapore With LG
- Rule #1. NO photography of Lindsay Lohan, the powers-that-be warn. If you do, her spirit will get absorbed into the camera and she will cease to exist and the media cocktail will be over, d’you hear? OVER. Only the official photographer and some dude from Associated Press can take pictures, otherwise the media cocktail will be over, d’you hear? OVER.
- Rule #2. See Rule #1.
- Rule #3. Only broadcast and official media (TV, radio, etc) can ask Lindsay Lohan a total of three questions. The rest of you lot can ask Lindsay questions when she mingles after that. IF that actually happens.
1245hrs. “Hi, sorry guys, Lindsay will be a little late.” That’s okay, we say, we’ll just start the cocktails without her. Oh, except there are no cocktails. Not even cold water to assuage our thirsting souls.
1255hrs. My bad. There is cold water, after all. But no food. Hungry. Haven’t eaten since 7am. Don’t they know hungry media makes angry media? Oh, wait. That’s just me, apparently. But now too faint to feel angry.
1300hrs. First “drama” moment of the day. A spotlight for the TV crew explodes people get impaled by the shards. Okay, the impalement didn’t happen, but that’s how bored I was – that an exploding light bulb was the highlight of my day so far.
1310hrs. Wait, what”s that noise outside? Oh, it’s Jacky Cheung and A*mei rehearsing for their slot. Excuse me while I step out for a while.
- Da Mouth, Jacky Cheung, A*mei and Sodagreen rehearsing Heal The World.
1320hrs. People start to grumble: How late can she be, we have other assignments you know, etc, etc, etc. Come on, she was Tweeting at 3am about having a fun time at Club McDonald’s. “Don’t hesitate, appreciate!” is what she wrote. Right on, Lindsay. But, er, where the heck is Club McDonald’s?
1330hrs. No, seriously, where IS Club McDonald’s?
1345hrs. Hello, KFC? I’d like to order a Hot Box, pop corn chicken, snackers and one root beer, no ice, please. Where? Fort Canning Park. Yes. At the building. You can’t miss it, it’s at the top of the hill. Hello? Hello? Heeelllo?
1346hrs. SHE’S HERE! Lindsay arrives, looking rather perky for someone out at Club McDonald’s at 3am. Unless, you know, she’s been having her Coca Cola. Hee hee! Oh, but nice shoes though. Alexander McQueen, we are told.
- Nice shoes, where’d you buy them?
1348hrs. The questioning starts. Of course, the music from the rehearsal outside is a little loud, so we can’t really hear what she’s saying. Something about being nervous because she hasn’t a clue what F1 is all about, but she’s going to do her best to learn as the day goes on.
1353hrs. Is it me, or does she look a little out of proportion. Maybe my not eating has affected my vision. Her arms look really thin, but dang, talk about being blessedly endowed.
1355hrs. For some reason, Lady Gaga’s Paparazzi gets stuck in my mind and I can’t get it out. Another journo turns to me and says, “For some reason, I’ve got Poker Face stuck in my mind.” OMG! Coincidence? I don’t think so.
1401hrs. Someone asks her about her movie role, which is rumoured to be “Paris Hilton with guns”.
“What do you mean by Paris Hilton with guns?” asks a befuddled Lindsay.
You know, Paris Hilton, like, a socialite… but carrying guns!
“Oh… Okay, you have one last question.”
That was never three questions just now!
Oh, snap!
1410hrs. The broadcast and official media segment ends. No mingling, time for Lindsay to go to her photo shoot.
“Hi Lindsay,” I ask. “Can I take a picture with you?”
“Sorry, I can’t! I have to go to a photo shoot now. But anyway, here’s my number, let me write it down for you. Call me later, we’ll have drinks. We’ll go to Club McDonald’s.”
Okay, so what if all that didn’t happen and I was probably hallucinating from lack of food? Somebody bring me a steak, my kingdom for a steak. Oh. I don’t have a kingdom…
