Metromix made me into a gawkerstalker

I’m sure it’s happened to every law-abiding Angeleno. In fact, I’m pretty certain it’s part of this town’s naturalization process to completely make a fool of oneself in front of a celebrity, loosely-defined. But in my many years in L.A., I’ve managed to avoid being reduced to a yammering buffoon in front of some high-on-his-horse muckamuck and his entourage. That was until this job…

So, this is my story (and I’m sticking to it). It’s Metromix HQ, and our crew gets together to talk about the haps. Of course the sequel to “Harold and Kumar” is brought up. A feature? Is Kal Penn available? Does anyone know John Cho’s people?

Cut to later that evening. I’m meeting friends at Ce Fiore in Little Tokyo. While yogurt would suffice on any other occasion, my body is starting to mutiny from lack of sleep and eating a single granola bar for breakfast, lunch and merienda. A civilized, I-need-to-not-be-walking-as-I-eat-this meal is in order; and just my effin’ luck, Haru Ulala is across the street from Japanese Village Plaza.

I enter, and who’s the first person I see, sitting right by the door?

Yep, that dude. John Cho. When did the god of humiliation comedy take over the script of my life? Of course this would happen when I’m tired and hungry and feeble-minded. But professional duty overrides my better judgment and I disturb what otherwise would have been a quiet, anonymous dinner of grilled mackerel and yakitori with his lovely wife.

I won’t go into miserable detail. It’s as if the spirit of Ben Stiller possesses me with the vengeance of all 5000 of his movies. (Yeah, it was that bad.)

As it turns out, Cho is a gracious dude and grants me an interview. We end up talking a lot about food—and groupies who accost him in Little Tokyo. (You can find the interview as well as more stuff about the Harold & Kumar sequel online.)

All’s well that end’s well. I guess I was in a comedy after all.

—Jiyeon Yoo