I was still wet behind the ears in the industry, but already getting calls from national production companies traveling "upta Maine." One of these established companies was Planet Grande Pictures out of Malibu, California. They told me that they were following a high-profile celebrity who was coming up to the Lewiston-Auburn, Maine area for an athletic event.
They wouldn't dive into any details since they didn't want me blowing up the interwebs with teenage girl excitement and leaking information out to the public before they landed. You know, because us Maine folk aren't used to seeing 'dem big TV stars all up close and personal-like.
I reassured them by telling them I once had an awkward confrontation with Bob Marley.
|Not the singer. The other one ...|
When the production crew arrived, I met them at their Hilton hotel and had breakfast with the Executive Producer. I finally got the lowdown. Turns out they were here for the Dempsey Challenge; a "run, walk and cycle fundraising experience for The Patrick Dempsey Center in Lewiston, Maine."
At this point, I figured out who the celebrity was ...
It was McDreamy himself: Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, I knew absolutely nothing about him except that he's a star on the popular medical TV drama, Grey's Anatomy. In fact, the only movie I could remember seeing him in was Freedom Writers, where he played Hilary Swank's sexually frustrated husband. Yet I still sympathized with his character because an active sex life is way more important than teaching underprivileged intercity kids.
... I kid.
So I assumed he was some soap opera doucheketeer and thought nothing of it.
|Eddie '12 was not impressed|
Dammit, this guy was actually pretty cool. I wanted to hate him, but he was a genuine person who was passionate about the Dempsey Center, his tight-knit family, and fulfilling his adrenaline addiction.
|Aujourd'hui, je suis le doucheketeer.|
The show also took a peek into Dempsey's personal life, which is what brought the crew up to Lewiston, Maine for The Dempsey Challenge. Every year, Patrick Dempsey and others ride their bicycles for up to 100 miles through Maine to raise money for The Patrick Dempsey Center for Cancer Hope & Healing. The Center provides free support, education and integrative medicine services to anyone impacted by cancer. Dempsey subsequently opened the place up after his mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, which relapsed five times.
|Long story short: Patrick Dempsey is a Saint. And I'm a Dick.|
But enough about my instant hetero-crush on Patrick [Can I call you, Patrick?], there was still work to be done. Patrick Dempsey was having a private event so that he and other bicyclists could prepare for the Dempsey Challenge. Our crew had to cover it. I was thrown into the mix as the minivan driver (prestigious title, I know). I would follow the swarm of adrenaline junkies as our Director of Photography and Executive Producer hung out of the van with Canon cameras so that they could capture everything.
Luckily, we got through the ordeal without flattening any biker shorts.
|Try impressing a girl by wearing a pair of these bike shorts, and you'll be riding your bike straight home.|
I entered the public bathroom and saw Captain Dempsey near the sinks. We both greeted each other as I walked over to the urinals to make yellow-business. At this point we were making small talk. You know, the casual "Hey, I have my dingus in my hand, but let's make noise with our mouths so that the sound of my pee stream in a quiet room is less awkward" routine.
I walked over to the sink and washed my hands, because mama didn't raise no fool. Still doing the small talk routine:
Eddie: "Man, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
Patrick: "Yes we do, but it should definitely be interesting."
Patrick's thoughts: "Why is this dingleberry still talking to me?"
I finished washing my hands and turned to Dempsey to tell him that I'd see him upstairs.
Eddie: "Alright, I'll see you up..."
When I turned to Patrick Dempsey, he was bent over with his bare ass waving hello to me. Time stood still as this caught me by complete surprise. In that moment, my dumb brain started telling me that Dempsey had just laid the groundwork for the most unexpected [and impressive] mooning I've ever fallen victim to... and I've fallen victim to MANY strategic moonings.
Little did I know (but quickly realized 5 milliseconds later), he was actually getting changed in this public bathroom, but didn't require the extra security provided by the line of stalls. Why? Because he's Patrick stinkin' Dempsey. Since it's proper washroom etiquette not to look another male in the eyes within the confines of a dirty public bathroom, I was oblivious to the fact that he was changing right next to me.
But then my mind played another mischievous trick on me. My next thought was, "What if I snapped a picture?"
I know what you're thinking: "Oh my, Eddie. This is the story of how McDreamy made you change teams! No wonder you enjoyed the musical stylings of Sugar Ray so much."
Sadly, this was not the case. Despite Mr. Dempsey clearly having great manscaping abilities, this thought came with other intentions. A picture of Patrick Dempsey's buttocks would bring in a lot of money from most entertainment media outlets. Way more than performing grunt work on this show would.
I quickly shot that idea down. I would never do such a thing. Would I really want to risk my entire career over a TMZ photo opportunity? That would be a quick road to the production blacklist if I lifted my Blackberry out of my pocket. Especially if I selfie'd myself into it.
|Plus, I only take boss selfies.|
Eddie: "...um... upstairs. Yeah, uh. Seeyoulaterbye!"
Patrick's thoughts: "Thank God he's gone. I can finally drop a deuce in peace."
... Hey, if a story happens in the bathroom, it's going to have a lot of bathroom humor ...
We both went back to work like it had never happened. He continued to be as professional and cool as always, and I continued to be my same, awkward self.
But I'll never forget my McSteamy encounter with McDreamy.