New Yorkers: We're not angry, we're just pointing.

See, I think that if I don't fawn over Paul McCartney in an elevator, then he is taking advantage of me. "Paul, remember that one time, when..."

I tend to agree that we bring our private behavior out in public. We're very respectful of celebrities but you should have heard the comments when some woman just puked in the gutter outside the smoking section. It was like watching "Outrageous Videos" in my living room but with 6 construction guys and, I had on pants.

I thought we didn't stare at celebrities because we always try to act like we're cooler than everyone else.

But I would agree that New Yorkers aren't rude so much as busy. I defy you to go into any three bars in Middle America and strike up as many decent conversations as you can in one in Manhattan.

I only bother celebs on the street when I need them to stop walking so i can get a cell phone pic. Hugh Grant even made a dorky pose for me LOL.

They left out the part about sleeping with celebs. What are the protocols for that???

If I was in an elevator with Paul McCartney, I know I wouldn't bother him. But my head would explode.

It's true. I once had Thanksgiving dinner with James Taylor, and I didn't say a single word to him. Just being polite/terrified.

Though, that was in Boston.

I gaped unashamedly at Stephin Merritt in Chelsea once. Should I have been ticketed?

Apparently it doesn't take much to become "noted critic and essayist" these days. The article is smug. I despise smug.

@moff: I completely agree, that's a big reason why I miss living there! That and Pomodoros vodka sauce pizza.

Wait, am I being insulted or complimented?

I spotted Mark Wahlberg once. He maxed out at 230. Total pussy.

I think the general population spends too much time in their car. It's like learning to live within a 2 ton set of armor. It glazes people over and dulls their ability to act and react with others when they are in a public situation.

For the celebrity ignoring thing, for me it's like, "you think because you're Heather Graham I'm going to get excited and swoon over your presence next to me? Give me a fucking break - bitch."

@Bellyboop: Before your head explodes, tell him to stop dying his hair or get a better dye job. He looks like one of the skeleton puppets from the Touch of Grey video.

Seems backwards, people aren't being polite about other people's private spaces; they're ruthlessly defending their own. I would attempt to spit on, spill coffee on, or otherwise defile any of the former Beatle member I discovered in my elevator.

@moff:

That is probably true, but the last time I visited from Texas and saved a guy's gym bag when he forgot it in a bar (and didn't steal or even look in it), he wanted to take me home to Momma.

I feel there is some inner need in Manhattan singles not being met.

On Monday evening, I informed my visiting mother that "the cop from Superbad" aka Bill Hader (yes, I saw Superbad with MY MOTHER) was sitting on the subway a few seats down from us. She literally whipped around and blatantly craned her head around to look for him, while I yanked her sleeve back and angrily whispered that "WE DON'T DO THAT HERE, MOTHER!!!" God it was so embarassing.

I'm not rude. I'm impudent. Now lick me, all of you!

She's an idiot. We respect celebrities when they're being private because this city is more like Japan; move one inch to the left, look at someone the wrong way and you're toast.

Body language. That's how you can *always* tell who's new in town just by people-watching.

Well, also, there's great premium placed on cool. Once on the #1 train a big Australian guy jumped on, holding the door open and bellowed "Is this the train to the World Trade Center" (pre-9/11, obviously.) Everyone ignored him. He asked 2 or three times more before I broke ranks (getting stares -- well, he *was* cute) and told him yes.

No one had responded because he was uncool, demonstrated neediness and not knowing -=- well, whatever. By a NYer's thinking this is just one step away from the "Annie Hall" scene of asking for mayo on your pastrami sandwich on white bread (that would be Armageddon.)

@HamptonShmampton: Actually, I think that's exactly it - on both of your points.

I don't get the basic premise, which is that celebrities are somehow ignored by the man on the street in New York as opposed to Los Angeles. Once you take the paparazzi and the occasional fawning Midwestern tourist out of the picture, your average Angeleno is as wont to ignore a celebrity in their immediate presence as a New Yorker, if not more so. I can't think of a time I've ever seen a celebrity who's wanted to go about their daily business not go about their daily business because of an autograph seeker. The ones who get attention are the ones who demand attention by pulling up to the Ivy in a brand new Mercedes convertible.

@Bellyboop: @CaptainFantastic: Oh, and ask him how Heather's doing. I'm telling you, he'll really appreciate it.

My mother and I waited 40 minutes for a table at a restaurant. Then Thom Yorke came in and was seated immediately. I gave him the stink-eye. He, surprisingly, did not cry and/or make a documentary about it.

@procrastinator, esq.: You mean the gold-fleck painted Bently with chrome 'dubs wearing wrap around gucci shades and a trophy blonde in the passenger seat-Bose sound system blaring 50 Cent. THAT'S attention in LA.

@sady: That's because the owner knows that when the celebrity is seated his establishment becomes the place where "Thom Yorke eats." This gives him more business.

@sady: Oh, and, reservations help....

We're too busy avoiding the stares of the pooping flasher pervs to notice them.

@fiveinchtaint: This is the second dumb comment of yours today at which I've laughed uproariously!

@louise: Re: The New York premium on cool

This is why I hate coming to New York. Even though I know avenues run north-south and I can navigate the subway system with ease, I still feel like a fat tourist from the suburbs (which, of course, is what I am) when I look at my cheat sheet with addresses and subway stops.

I met a friend at MoMA last month. I'm from surburban Philadelphia, he lives in Brooklyn, but he grew up in the South. We both admitted we were relieved when we figured we were on the right train to the museum because we were surrounded by Germans and people with artsy fartsy eyeglasses.

@miss_msry: Yes. There's a secret part in most of us that wants to scream, "Please! Please, take me with you! Don't leave me here in this godforsaken place!" every we talk to someone visiting from out of town.

My theory on celebrity sightings is that you look twice because there is a moment of recognition, you process why you recognize their face, realize it is not someone you actually know, and move on. We're inundated with their faces all the friggin time. It's kind of like if the TV only had a picture of a grapefruit on constantly, and then one day you see that grapefruit in the supermarket and it's like wow, you've seen the grapefruit. It's not like you're actually going to talk to the grapefruit. Or at least, I hope not.

The reason I avoid eye contact with celebrities? Because the last thing I need is one more person fawning over me and taking my picture.

Get a life, celebrities. Seriously.

@DorothyMantooth: Ha. Key word being dumb. Too much chardonnay last night.

@SW-2: Stephin Merritt is very few people's idea of a celebrity...you and I, of course, are the normal ones for gaping at him (or at least, I would if I ever got a chance!)

@saralapua: Oh man, I was at Brownie's a couple of years ago and gave that grapefruit a cigarette because he was totally coked out of his mind and then he left with my girlfriend. And then the villainous Air Force general in his next self-written vanity project was named after me. I hate that fucking grapefruit so much.

But I think you're right, there may be a double take and then it's back to normal. I don't stare at celebrities on the street in NYC because I don't stare at anyone on the street anywhere.

I like the old theory that New Yorkers don't gawk at celebrities because we secretly all think of ourselves as celebrities.

@SW-2: You meant Stepin Fetchit, right?

@Mary Mouse: He's also one of the least celebrity-seeming people in the world. So unassuming. I'd imagine he blends pretty easily into a crowd.

I gawk. I can't help it.

@SurplusJ: You only know it's him by seeing me gawking across the street.
@DonPardoCalrissian: Hm. He was humming "Ol' Man River," so it could have been either, really.

i like the first part of the post -- spot on.

i've often thought that there are no more crazies in nyc than in any other part of the us -- we just have more consistent access to them. in iowa, per se, they would be off in the woods somewhere collecting old cars and government cheese. but in good ol nyc, you get to share a sidewalk subway bench, checkout line, and sometimes, they're even driving your cab!

to the second part of the post, i think nyc-ers are so well reserved with celebrities, because we've seen the people who go NUTS -- and it ain't pretty.

we'd rather have a quiet moment with a celeb than a an "OMG, I LOVE YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH" one.

although we're still able to think that, right?

Last month I saw Keifer Sutherland on the street shit-faced at 6:30 in the morning. I talked to him and he let me take his picture. At work I told my co-workers the story and they said I should sell the pictures (he was falling on his ass) but I said "I'm a New Yorker, we don't do that". But I did share the pictures with everyone.

"It's kind of like if the TV only had a picture of a grapefruit on constantly, and then one day you see that grapefruit in the supermarket and it's like wow, you've seen the grapefruit. It's not like you're actually going to talk to the grapefruit. Or at least, I hope not."

Sort of like the Flatiron building. Never will figure out what the fuck is so fascinating.

So I live in this town where there's a summer theatre festival that a lot of "celebrities" come to perform at, and I'd like to share a couple of tales about why I actually hate "celebrities."

1. I went to college with a girl who became kind of a Broadway sensation in like the mid-'90s. Now she's married to a D-lister (truly an E-lister) and probably has kids now because I haven't seen her around in anything for a while. She was on the mid-'90s version of the equivalent of Gossip Girl, her career apogee, as far as I can tell. Anyway, she was up here a couple of summers ago and performed in this kind of informal showcase-type thing--singing a showtune while wearing a CBGB t-shirt--and then afterward when we were all outside smoking and I said hello she pretended not to know who I was. And at that point I was already embarrassed for her.

2. Same general time and place as above. I meet this guy on Manhunt who turns out to be a washed-up television star from the late '90s who thinks I know who he is (from his role in a truly atrocious sit-com). He is an oversharer about alcohol and sex(!) addictions but is somehow simultaneously coy and smug because of his supposed celebrity status. I have no idea "who" he is or what show he was on...until later (when he tells me). We proceed to attempt what would surely have been terrible sex until I leave, irritated, confused and disgusted (mostly with myself). The end.

@Mary Mouse: @SW-2: I once saw him across the street with his chihuahua bundled up in his coat. He looked unhappy, as usual. But it was so adorable, I went to Dick's Bar later to see if he'd be there, but alas.

@BK_KT: That's why I never tell my mom who she's seen until after the person is out of her sight. She still talks about how we saw Eddie Izzard at Whole Foods once- and I'm still not sure she even knows who he is. She likes to have something to tell the gals back home about her daughter's "glamorous" life in LA. Other than stories about my constant state of job hunting.

My dad, though, just doesn't care. Point out the entire cast of Grey's Anatomy sitting mere yards away and it barely warrants a glance from him. Yet he cannot get why I never talk to anyone I recognize, cries of "Daaaad, we don't do that on this neighborhood" forever go unheard. He's lived in the south for long enough to think that strangers enjoy being spoken to, even though when he first tried that out here they'd practically cross the street to get away.

A week or so after the Woody/Soon Yi scandal broke, I was walking out of the Whitney when they passed right in front of me, holding hands.

All the pedestrians in front of them were all "whatever" and not even looking until the moment they passed passed, at which point every single previously blasé person stopped dead in their tracks and mouthed "WAS THAT WOODY AND SOON YI?" to their nearest fellow NYer.

It was hilarious, and awesome.

I had a drink with Crispin Glover and he asked me about my films. That was nice.

p.s. I'm not bragging.

@moff: Only if they're from New England.

Yes I'm an elitist prick. WHADDYAGONNADOABADIT?!

@meechybee: I love when I think my cabbie is a phone... but no, they're just talkin' to themselves.

@GingerVitis: That's my favorite thing too. I love walking in back of a celebrity and seeing people's faces before and after they walk past. One night a friend and I were walking from dinner and who comes booking right by us with two friends is Harrison Ford. It was priceless to see the reactions.

To point however, I think that here in New York we're too cool to fawn over anyone but ourselves (at least openly!).

I heard a rumor Stephen Merritt moved to LA. Anyone know if this is true? and if so... why?

We don't care because we are celebs each and everyone of us in our ego inflated heads!

@DonPardoCalrissian: If it makes you feel any better, the only thing left of the grapefruit's career is late night infomercials and your ex has gained 50 pounds.. revenge is sweet....

@HiredGoons: Huh, beats me.