There are many benefits to living in Indianapolis, not the least of which is its status as a celebrity mecca. (Well, that and the never-ending supply of NASCAR t-shirts.) I can’t throw a corn cob around here without hitting a celeb in the head. And so I wasn’t surprised last night when I happened upon stardom at my local gas station. Around 9 p.m. I popped in to fill ‘er up since it’s not wise to leave your car with a near-empty tank when it’s -100°. While the nozzle pumped away, I headed inside to grab a drink and what to my wondering eyes did appear but Rupert from Survivor, and he still has a beard! I did a few sly double-takes to make sure it was him but as soon as he started talking, I knew it was the one-and-only. His voice is quite distinctive. He was wearing plain clothes (no velvet robe?) and snow boots and still sports his trademark unruly ‘do and scruffy beard.
I didn’t want to be That Annoying Girl who oooos and ahhs over B-list celebs at the gas station, so I quietly paid for my bev and scurried back to my car. Once there, I rummaged around for my mobile phone and managed to snap this pic of him in the parking lot:
I didn’t feel comfortable getting any closer to get a better pic but if you can’t tell from this awesome photographic gem that it was in fact Rupert, you must be blind. I plan to add this puppy to my portfolio in case I ever have an interview with TMZ.
Rupert appeared to be helping his companion, who was driving a moving truck. He was looking under the hood and seemed to know what he was doing. I bet he was thinking, “If I can eat yak testicles and swim with sharks in the Pearl Islands, this ought to be a cinch!”
My brush with fame was fleeting but thrilling nonetheless. With all the publicity this will generate, I may need to hire a bodyguard. And from now on if you want to make plans with me, you’ll have to contact “my people.”