I met Julia in October 2007. It was right before Rosh Hashanah. She was tall, blonde and beautiful. Her publicist arranged the interview. We met in the park at La Cienega and Olympic Blvds.
After I wrote up the interview, Julia email me: "Good god you're perfectly evil. Did you know that I used to keep a cut-out picture of you from an old issue of Rolling Stone in my diary when was 15? I think I was a little bit in love with you."
About nine months ago, I noticed on Facebook that she was engaged to a bloke named Quinn. I clicked the link and looked at his profile and wondered if I hated him.
The next day, I got a friend request.
I was freaked. How did he know I was looking at his profile?
I accepted the friend request and we had no further contact.
Three weeks ago, Julia calls me. She has a friend who loves my blog and wants to meet me.
"A hot chick!" I thought to myself. "Awesome!"
We finally meet for coffee this afternoon.
Julia is 45 minutes late. She brings Quinn with her.
"I don't know why Julia thinks all her guys friends will be excited to meet me," he says. "I don't get it. 'Oh, this is Steve. He's been trying to f--- me for five years. You must meet him.'"
