I was hanging out with Michelle Obama, my best friend from college. We were getting breakfast for dinner at Denny's. Every person in the restaurant turned and stared when her husband slid into the booth, but I played it cool. We just sat around, drinking milkshakes and shooting the shit.
But I had to get going to the film set where I was an assistant and occasional babysitter for the movie's eight-year-old star. The set itself was on a beach, about twenty feet out on a sand bar made of aquamarine bathroom tiles. I waded with the young starlet and worried about my upcoming appearance on the Today show.
I had no idea what to wear, and this being a beach feature, the set wardrobe offered little in the way of emergency help. I finally settled on a nice pink blouse before promptly spilling my coffee all over it. No big deal, I thought. The rest of the cast and crew convinced me otherwise. So I found some other shirt and rushed over to the Today show, arriving thirty minutes late.
Katie Couric was back in the host role, and I prepared myself to answer whatever question she decided to throw my way. They tossed me in the interview chair, turned on the lights, and let the camera roll. Katie Couric stared at me in silence. Was I supposed to say something? I drew a complete blank. No cute anecdotes, no funny jokes, not even a boring story about what I had for breakfast. I was convinced she was supposed to be the one to kick things off, but she just raised one eyebrow and smirked. America watched me sweat and squirm. This was not going well.