If it’s Saturday afternoon, and an inferno-worthy 112 degrees, where am I? Probably at Sigel’s, stocking up on Skinnygirl margaritas to drink by the pool. It’s entirely too hot outside, and water submergence is the best (read: only) alternative to melting like Alex Mack when she’s late to class.
My friend and I were browsing the liquid maze when I heard someone walking behind me.
“Tanner P just walked in.” Which was followed by a prompt, “No he didn’t. Wait yes he did…that’s him!” I turned back around, instinctively looked down at my toes, and tried to hide them under a shelf of Tom Collins mix.
Ok, so I know it’s been a couple of seasons since he infamously massaged Jillian’s feet on national TV, but it’s still kind of cool that we have a pseudo-celeb roaming the streets of Dallas. We just happened to check-out at the same time; I saw him climb into his unnecessarily large SUV, and I may or may not have had the quick wit to memorize part of his license plate number…
So what did we, as realty TV junkies, do? Follow him, duh. (Really, what did you expect?) I promise it’s not as creepy as it sounds, we were just curious about the proximity of his toes to ours.
Remind me to make a pedicure appointment.