So. Ireland. Where I’ve listened to Dean Martin play “Danny Boy” on the church organ at St. Columb’s Cathedral in Derry, had a garden lunch with Joan Crawford at Glenveagh Castle, dined with a relative of Winston Churchill in Monaghan, and stayed in a chic hotel room directly across the street from The Edge’s penthouse. How do you top all that? By having champagne with Scarlett Johansson, of course.
Here’s the story: Yesterday, before going out to dinner, we went up to the Roof Bar at The Marks Hotel to have sunset cocktails, get a good look at the city, watch the cool people, etc. So we take the elevator up there and when we arrive, who should approach us with a tray of just-poured Veuve Clicquot but Scarlett!
Okay, it wasn’t really Scarlett Johansson. But she looked so remarkably like her that I actually gasped. And then I asked her if she’d mind if I took her picture.
“You want a photo of me?”
“Yes, please. If you wouldn’t mind.”
A Scarlett-like smile crept across her face. “But why?”
“Because you look just like Scarlett Johansson. I’m sure you’ve heard that before.”
She blushed. “Never.”
“No, sir.” Slight pause and another wicked smile. “But I can’t say as I mind.”
And so I took her picture.
Now you tell me: Put a little red lipstick on this Irish lass and give her some fancy turquoise earrings and do you not think even Sean Penn would do a double take?