So I didn't get a bottle of Bertolli olive oil, but I did get him to sign this book (Ahem...please note the XO...yeah, you know what that means...):
The man is, in the words of a friend of mine, a good-looking guy. A VERY good-looking guy. Much better in person than I could have ever imagined. So much so that when I got back to my office I forced the other women who had decided to skip it to go down and see him in real life.
"I don't care if you don't know who he is. You know what sexy is and it is downstairs signing autographs right now!"
So they went. And they swooned.
The best part? He's sweet, too! The line to meet him was long, but he patiently shook hands and chatted with everyone that came by. While he signed and chatted, a group of assistants handed out free samples of Bertolli pasta (surprisingly tasty). When my turn came, I shook his hand and told him what a fan I was. I asked him to sign the book and spelled my name out for him. "It's a tricky one, I know," I said somewhat apologetically. "Nah," he replied. "Rocco isn't so easy either." In my head I thought "Actually Rocco is five letters and fairly simple," but what came out of my mouth was a lot closer to: "ha ha mmmmm ha..." Eloquence at her best...
At least it wasn't a recap of the Tucker Carlson freakout of 2001.
And as a special (and equally exciting note): Welcome Gawker readers!
It has been quite the lunch hour...