I’m in LA for Disney stuff, and somehow I end up with these two bozos on my calendar. I tried to get out of it, but they were already out in the waiting area and there was no way to escape. He comes in dressed like a twelve-year-old, and as for Demi — well, I’ll tell you something. You get up close on her, and even with all the makeup, she’s scary. I mean like Halloween scary.
So I know why they’re here — Ashton’s latest movie, “Spread,” earned a whopping $250,000 at the box office, his TV show got shut down after two episodes, and his restaurant, Dolce, flopped. So basically, he’s hanging around with not much to do except Twitter his inane thoughts to the world, and it’s driving Demi nuts and she needs him to find something to do with his life because otherwise she’s just got some 31-year-old homeless guy living in her house. All well and good, and I applaud her for trying to turn this imbecile into a productive member of society — but just leave me the fuck out of it, is basically how I feel.
So I did what I always do with Hollywood people, which is that I pretend I have no idea who they are or what they do. I go, Hey, it’s nice to meet you and everything, but I’m afraid I have nothing to with choosing the talent for our keynote events, that’s totally someone else’s department. And they’re like, Talent? For a keynote? Huh? I go, You want to perform at the event in January, right? Like, with your band or something? Or just solo? I’m pretty sure we’ve already booked someone — Lady Blah Blah or something? Does that ring a bell? — but I’d be happy to put you in touch with the right people for next time. You could audition or something.
Ashton goes, Dude, I’m not a singer. I go, What do you do? You play guitar or something? He says, No, dude, I’m not in a band. I give them this puzzled look and I go, I thought you were in a band. Then Demi starts getting pissed and she goes, He’s an actor. He’s Ashton Kutcher. He’s the number one person on Twitter. Have you really not heard of him?
I totally ignore her and say, to Ashton, Well, I don’t use Twitter, so forgive me. But I have to tell you, your manager is kind of bugging the shit out of me here. Demi goes, Manager? You think I’m his manager? And I go, Okay, I’m sorry — your mom is bugging me. Can we maybe meet one on one about this stuff? You know what I mean? Because the estrogen quotient in this room is getting a little out of control. Are you feeling me on this?
Ashton’s like, Totally. And Demi’s like, Excuse me? What the fuck? Then Ashton kind of sits there laughing to himself, like he sort of gets what’s going on, and Demi is like, Look, we’re here to pitch you, okay? Ashton wants to be the “I’m a Mac” guy. Not to replace Justin Long. To succeed him. You see? That campaign needs to evolve. It’s static. It’s the same thing, over and over. We get it. Two guys, one’s a dork, the other’s cool. But you need to refresh it. It’s getting stale.
She pokes him in the arm and says, Go ahead, show him, do it for him. He goes, Nah, I don’t know. She says, No, go go ahead, do it. He’s all bashful and goes, Oh, I don’t know. At this point she just totally snaps and says, Goddammit Ashton fucking stand up and fucking do it!
So he stands up, like some dumbass kid in a school play, and she says, Don’t fucking slouch, Ashton! Which of course just makes him more nervous. He goes, Uh, seriously, I think I’d be really good at it, because I’m a totally huge Mac fan, like, for a long time or whatever. And, like, nothing against Justin, because I actually really, like, like him a lot, but I just think I could take that character to the next level, you know? Okay. Okay. You ready?
He clears his throat, and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes, like he’s doing some kind of Method technique, and then he goes: Hi, I’m a Mac. Hey, PC — I heard that Windows 7 is like really hard to install, is that true or what?
He stops. He stands there. Waiting. I let him wait.
Then I turn to Demi and I go, Wait a minute — I just realized who you are! You’re on Desperate Housewives, right? God, I feel so stupid. Senior moment, right? And you were in The Breakfast Club, too, right? And before that you were in porn. I know your name, I mean it’s right there in my head and I can’t get it. Hold on, don’t tell me. I know this. Don’t tell me. Ah! Yes! I’ve got it — Ally Sheedy! Right?
She says, That’s it. We’re leaving. I’m like, No, come on! I’m a huge fan! That one movie you made with Ron Jeremy, I must have seen it a hundred times. And I think it’s awesome that your son is an actor too! Look, can I at least get your autograph? Let me find a pen.
But by then they’re gone, and Bob Eiger, who’s been watching the whole thing through a mirror, comes in from the next room and he’s like, You know what, Steve? The world needs more of you.