Searching for Clooney, Part Two

To recap where I left off in the previous blog, my friend and & I were vacationing this summer in Lake Como, Italy, hoping to find our elusive prey, George Clooney.

We woke up Tuesday morning full of optimism and excitement. Today was the day we’d find our man. We took the ferry to Bellagio. Of course it was drizzling, but we didn’t care. Bellagio was very close to George’s place in Laglio and we were certain that we’d run into him.

We spent the day in Bellagio, checking out the old villa’s, buying silk ties and scarves (Bellagio is famous for their silk). We sat at the cafes, with our sunglasses on (just to be tres cool). No sign of George. We took the ferry back to Como and we both felt a bit disappointed. But we said to ourselves that we would find him that night.

We had went to Gatto Nero, and once again found ourselves surrounded by couples, (straight and same-sex ones), and families. No George and no single men. After dinner the host showed us the souvenir photo album, which featured many pictures of George Clooney, Matt Damon and even Michael Bolton (yes the Michael Bolton). We returned to our hotel that night, $100 poorer (George likes to eat at very expensive places).

The next day we went to Lugano, Switzerland and had a nice time there. We took a ferry back to our hotel and one of the ferry captains said he had something to show us. He took out his phone and showed us a photo, taken that very day, of George Clooney. George was sporting a slight grey beard. Apparently George was on that day’s ferry to Bellagio. We were in shock and couldn’t believe it. We missed George by one day. How could that have happened to us?

We had another uneventful dinner, surrounded by families and couples. The next morning, just before we departed, I stood out at the terrace and looked out at Lake Como. It was so beautiful and I was sad to have to leave this gorgeous view. Then I looked down at my legs. I had forgotten to shave them. I guess in retrospect, it would have been embarrassing to have met George Clooney with hairy legs. Then again, maybe he’s the type that wouldn’t have minded? I’d like to think so.