Yesterday morning Jeremy Piven stopped me in the street to ask me a question. No, it was not “Will you please be in my next movie?” though you probably think I get that a lot. (Though given the #metoo movement, I don’t think I’d accept that offer anyway.)
Actually, he asked me where the nearest yoga studio was, of all things. I may not have a UK passport, but I think famous Hollywood actors asking me for directions must mean I’m a legit London local now.
All right, so the question wasn’t completely random—I did have a yoga mat poking out of my backpack.
I was riding my bike along the King’s Road in Chelsea, heading home from the free Sunday morning outdoor yoga class in Duke of York Square that I like to attend, and I had to stop at a light. No one else was around, except one man crossing the road directly in front of me. I looked at him and recognized him instantly. I quickly turned my gaze back straight ahead (the thought of approaching a celebrity terrifies me), but a second later I heard, “Excuse me.” So I looked at him, now standing directly next to me, and he asked, “Is there a yoga studio nearby?”
I responded that I didn’t know of any studios, I had just come from an outdoor class that was now finished. He asked if that was at a nearby park, and I explained a bit further, and I don’t really remember the rest of the conversation but it basically ended with him thanking me and me wishing him luck and riding on.
A quick search for his Instagram account confirmed he was traveling around Europe this week, sporting the exact same level of face stubble.
Now on the list of celebrities I’d like to meet, Jeremy Piven has never been in my top 10, but hey, he was actually very polite, so that’s something.
I do wish I’d called out, “Namaste, Mr. Piven!” or something cool as I rode off. But I’m not that cool.
M was greatly dismayed I didn’t do his Old School “This is me leaving” bit at him.