In which I continue to annoyingly name-drop

In continuation of my Entourage-themed week, tonight I went to the preview of Wolfgang Puck's new restaurant in the Pacific Design Center. Wolfgang himself was there for the event, billed as his homecoming "to the city that made him a star;" and, fittingly, so was Rex Lee, of Entourage, naturally. I may also have seen Kelly, the season two winner of the Apprentice, but since that show is barely relevant anymore, I have to imagine he was among the commoners, and not the red carpet walkers. Nevertheless, he was looking yummy as ever.

The food was fabulous. The crowd was interesting. And I was reminded, once again, that people-watching here is literally a spectator sport. I've commented on this before - that, unlike in New York, there is absolutely no shame in looking people over, in plain view of other guests; that it is not rude, but expected, part of the social dance. Everyone is someone in this town, and we're all trying to figure out who each of us are. I may actually be a nobody; but nobody else is as certain of that as me. They have to look twice just to make sure.

My friend and I grabbed a seat on one of the many sofas, relaxed with our drinks and Wolfgang specials, and said little to each other as we watched the crowd drift by. It was our own private theater production, choreographed with an endless stream of comedic outfits and tragic missteps. No judgments, as Crunch would say, just observations of the crowd courting each other from above the collarbone; grown-ups glancing over and up and down and over again until they either found what they were looking for or decided it wasn't going to be found there that night after all.

"This is what we do to convince ourselves we are happy," my friend said. But I am happy, I thought. It only takes a handful of D-listers and some free food and drink to get on my good side.

But I knew what she meant. We should be doing something more meaningful with our time, like falling in love, decorating a house, raising children. We shouldn't be taking pride in our game of Who's Who, simply to boost our own sense of self-worth.

Isn't that why we live here, though? Not for the celebrities, per se, but for the importance we feel when we have plans on the calendar, friends with whom to meet up, and gossip to share? Until I find something else with which to occupy my time, this suits me just fine. I could do a lot worse than having Wolfgang Puck cook me dinner.