Ok, so I was thinking about tennis this morning (I don't know why) and I'm fairly certain that if I ever went to like a tennis open or something and I like bumped into one of the players I'd totally embarrass myself by not knowing who they were and saying something along the lines of "watch where you're going, douchebag," to them. Even if it was Andy Roddick, because he'd probably be wearing a hat and there's no doubt that he's taller than me and, being as short as I am, I tend to be looking at people's chests or necks, POSSIBLY chins, so it's doubtful I'd look at the person's face. And don't try to tell me it's antisocial to not look people in the face, tall people, because how many times have you tripped over a short person because you didn't know they were there? Honestly.
Anyway, then I started thinking that if that happened in a movie, say a romantic comedy, you know these two (Andy Roddick and myself, in this example) would end up falling in love by the end. I wouldn't know who he was, and since he's a big, famous, tennis star he'd think "hey great, this girl will like me for who I am," and he'll pretend to be a ball boy. Then, like halfway through the movie I'll find out who he really is (like, say when he tells me his last name) and become overwhelmed by all the photographers that follow him around asking me why I think I'm better than Mandy Moore and taking pictures of me when I leave the house wearing no makeup and wearing a bathrobe. Not that I do this on a regular basis, but this IS a romantic comedy so something has to happen to embarrass the heroine, like in Two Weeks Notice when Sandra Bullock gets drunk in front of Hugh Grant, or like in Bridget Jones's Diary* when Bridget does, well, anything.
So, all of this unwanted publicity will make me never want to see Andy ever again and I'll move across the country to teach underprivileged children or something. A few months will pass and then I'll walk by a tennis court in the ghetto or something and see Andy being the ball boy/coach for some poor, little, homeless kids who got their tennis rackets out of the dumpster behind the local country club. Then I will run to him, get tangled in the net, and we'll all laugh and live happily ever after.
The name of this movie? So glad you asked . . . Ball Boy. I think I'd better start the screenplay now before someone steals the idea.
*Please don't think I'm bashing Bridget Jones's Diary in any way. I would never do such a thing to one of my favorite movies, especially when it stars Colin Firth.