PinkBeltRage
Fifteen minutes with you: The day I finally met Morrissey
6 May 04 ¦ Permalink ¦
Back in high school, my friends and I would pass out small pieces of paper to strangers with the lyrics to “Hand In Glove” printed on them. If you happened across these at any Denny’s in LA County, that was our handy work.
We would lie around talking about Morrissey, writing him letters, bad poetry and were always on the look-out for the perfect cardigan.
We dreamed about meeting him someday, but never really imagined it would actually happen.
A brief history of my close encounters with Morrissey:
- Outside KROQ: trampled on, managed to touch his arm; cried in the grass.
- NBC-Burbank: slept outside studio, didn’t get in, ran after his limo for 2 blocks; cried in the street.
- The Forum: front row seats, threw a bouquet of flowers, hit his leg; cried through every song.
Years later, we were college students going to see Beck at the Troubadour and having dinner at a nearby CPK (Beverly Center).
We had just ordered and were sitting there saying things like “Hey, look it’s that ugly Baldwin brother.” (We used to play this game where we’d point out B-list celebrities or look-a-likes).
We all had a big laugh and looked around for someone else to make fun of. My friend, J1 (all of my best friends have names that start with the letter “J”) had us cracking up over Lorenzo Lamas when J2 screamed hoarsely, “OH MY GOD! IT’S MORRISSEY!”
J2’s eyes were suddenly huge, glassy and staring; his mouth frozen in the shape of a scream. J1 and I were still laughing about Lorenzo Lamas as we turned in our seats. I looked over my left shoulder and there was Morrissey !
He was with a male friend and they were being seated right behind us. My friends and I were silent, but I think we must have looked funny because after glancing at us, Morrissey asked to move to a table by the kitchen.
The hostess moved them 3 tables away from us (we were still in full view of him). Sitting down, Morrissey grabbed his menu and buried his face in it.
Trying not to have total breakdowns and scare Morrissey away (again), we used the various mirrors in the restaurant to stare at him indirectly.
I turned to my friends, J1 and J2, and said “We so have to talk to him or else we will regret this for the rest of our lives.” J2 agreed. J1 said she had moved on and was over the whole “Smiths thing”, but agreed that J2 and myself had to talk to him.
J2 and I debated over when and how we would approach our idol. Should we let him eat first? Should we go before his food arrives? What if we wait too long and he leaves through the back? Do we tackle him as he walks back out to La Cienega? Would we create a scene? Can we not create a scene?
We agreed that we didn’t want to embarrass Morrissey. He seemed to know that we were his fans and was trying his best to have a nice dinner despite our stares. When our server brought us our food, we begged her to find out what he had ordered. She informed us that he chose the Goat Cheese Pizza (we were relieved that he wasn’t eating the BBQ Chicken pizza).
J2 and I hardly touched our dinner as we were too busy watching Morrissey eat his. He used a knife and fork to eat his pizza (of course) and drank bottled water. We couldn’t believe it when he ordered dessert! I don’t know why, but we weren’t expecting him to eat sweets, let alone an entire white chocolate tartufo. He actually spooned up all the raspberry compote that was left over on his plate and ate every last bit.
J2 and I couldn’t stop saying “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” under our breaths. We watched him finish his dessert and ask for the check. J1 warned us that we’d better make our move soon because he was getting ready to leave. Now we were really freaking out. Morrissey’s friend got up from the table and we thought they were leaving already. We were relieved when Morrissey stayed put as his friend just headed off to the men’s room.
J2 and I both agreed that it was “Now or never” and before I could say “Go!” J2 had already left the table. In a blink of an eye, he was already on his knees at Morrissey’s side. When I walked over, J2 had just finished whispering something in Morrissey’s ear and then moved aside so I could get in.
I knelt down and gushed, “I love you. You don’t know how much I love you.” I felt like every molecule in my body was actively freaking out at that exact moment. I was shaking and Morrissey looked at me and said, “thank you”. J2 was nodding along in agreement with me as I spoke, we both looked at each other, silently asking “This is real, right?”, and simultaneously started to sob.
I tried my best to tell him how much his music meant to me and even brought up all those close encounters. Through sobs I said, “And I saw you at KROQ. I was crushed on the ground, but managed to reach up and I grabbed your arm, like this…” at which point I reached out and grabbed his arm to demonstrate. Morrissey jumped just a little when I did that. He looked me in the eyes though and said “Yes, I remember that day. It meant a lot and I was deeply moved”.
We watched in tears as Morrissey took my pen and autographed our things. J2 had him sign his CPK place mat while I pulled out my checkbook registry (I have no idea why I had him sign that). 
His friend was making his way back from the bathroom so we said our goodbyes, thanking him for everything and telling him we loved him.
He shook both of our hands and even did the upper arm squeeze thing with his other hand. J2 and I floated back to our table where J1 had witnessed the whole thing. She was in tears too. She said it was so awesome to see us meet him and that everyone around had been watching us and asking her who he was.
We watched as Morrissey’s friend sat back down at the table. Morrissey whispered something to him and his friend looked over at us and smiled. Then they quickly got up and left using the exit that goes directly to the parking lot. J2 and I were shaky and silent. We were still trying to process what had just happened.
I think sometimes when you meet someone you totally idolize, you run the risk of being horribly disappointed: maybe they won’t be what you expected; shattering your whole ideal.
I can honestly say that I wasn’t disappointed at all with Morrissey. He was so nice and genuine. His words were sincere. He wasn’t shy like you might think. He made eye contact and never looked away from us. He smiled and seemed really comfortable with himself. He didn’t look nervous when we started to cry. It didn’t bother him at all.
J1 said that we were literally glowing when we left CPK that night. And for old time’s sake, she queued up “Hand In Glove” as we pulled out of the parking lot. Heading towards Santa Monica Boulevard, singing at the top of our lungs:
“Yes, I know my luck too well
And I’ll probably never see you again
I’ll probably never see you again
I’ll probably never see you again...”
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— al 19 May 04 #
— Joy 21 May 04 #
— eddie vedder 22 June 04 #