Chad Fucking Lowe

SANTA MONICA, CALIF. (SNARKY) -- I was hoping for a lot more frankly.

When I moved to Chicago in 2000, I couldn't wait to meet my first celebrity. Like any boy from Nowhere, Iowa, I was excited at the prospect of running into Mike Jordan or Oprah -- hell, I would have liked to meet Sammy Sosa back then -- just for the reflected glory and a story for my friends back home.

Though it took a few weeks, I finally ran into someone who's work I had seen. In the old Trader Todd's downtown, I met none other than Donald Gibb. Yes, good ol' Ogre from that boffo film franchise "Revenge of the Nerds."

I'd always felt a little gypped because my Chicago celebrity cherry was popped by an 80's Trivial Pursuit answer. And though I'd go on to see the other celebrities listed above, it never was the same as my first time.

Perhaps subconsciously because of this harbored angst, I recently moved to sunny SoCal to become my own celebrity. And to shake off the stain of Don Gibb, I went famous people hunting upon my arrival.

I live on the ocean in Santa Monica mere steps from trendy shopping and dining districts. I figured it was only a matter of time until L.A.'s finest such as Will Ferrell, Mel Gibson or George Clooney would emerge.

But my great hopes were dashed when I dined late one Monday night at Swingers. Lo and behold, Chad Fucking Lowe was at the counter nervously noshing with a quite pronounced mandibular motion. (It looks like he got Hillary's horsemouth in the divorce.)

So I am 0-2 in quality celebrity sightings in my first attempts in each city and I'm seriously considering moving to New York City.

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