So, you want to be famous? If you’re under thirty, I suggest signing up for a reality TV show where you drink excessively, show your private lady business, and hook up with your fellow cast members.
If you are past your reality TV show prime, then it may be time to activate Plan B (or in my case, stumble into Plan B by taking a new job that involves working with Dr. Oz). When I learned that I would be working pretty regularly with Dr. Oz, I was excited for several reasons:
- He talks about poop a lot, and I like to poop a lot, especially if I’ve eaten a lot of (insert food name here).
- He knows Oprah and I’d give anything to hear her say, “Please welcome to the show, Jennifer CREHHHHHHHHsap!” (If possible, I’d also like to touch her hair. Is it soft? Is it real? Is she hiding food or Nate Berkus in there?)
Jennifer: “So, you eat almonds and fish and exercise a lot, huh?”
Dr. Oz: “Yes, Jennifer, I do. And let me tell you why … (Insert smart doctor language here).”
Jennifer: “I like nachos. Sometimes I get them with tomatoes, but not really. Do fish and chips count as fish?”
Above all, Dr. Oz is a patient and kind man.
Going Head-to-Head
Dr. Oz is an awesomely famous person for many reasons—he’s got that good hair, he’s super smart, he’s funny, and he LOVES talking to people. Even when I was alone with him, I was never really alone with him because he was constantly on the move. All he wants to do is talk to people and answer their questions and help them out.
One day I had a rare moment alone with him before an event. We were chatting idly when he turned to me and said, “You have a big head, which is perfect for television. A lot of people in television have big heads. They photograph better on television. Oprah has a big head.”
Was this flattery or a backhanded compliment? (And was he really comparing me to Oprah?!)
I replied, “If you think my head is big, you should see my dad’s!” (Yes, I do I wish I had better control over the fat mouth attached to my big head).
From that point on, I began telling everyone that Dr. Oz told me I had a perfect head for television.
Keeping in Touch
After Dr. Oz began his talk show, I didn’t work with him as frequently but I thought it would be a good idea to keep his cell number in my phone just in case I had a bodily function emergency and needed to talk to an expert.
Keeping him in my contacts became a really bad idea last Valentine’s Day when I accidentally texted Dr. Oz a picture of myself with the message “I Love You!” (It was intended as a Valentine’s message for my boyfriend, who was the person below Dr. Oz’s name in my contacts list.)
In between bursts of flop sweat and swearing, I tried to find a way to cancel the message. I called my boyfriend hoping that he knew of a way to recall or rescind a text message using some fancy cell phone technology that I didn’t know about. In between hysterical laughter, he praised me for not sending a picture of my boobs. Outside of that he was no help. Alas, there was no going back.
The more time that passed, the less I knew what to do. I sat in front of the phone in nervous terror, hoping for a response from Dr. Oz that would let me off the hook, something like, “Hahaha—looks like you sent this message to the wrong hunk/charming celebrity!” Unfortunately that didn’t happen.
