The receipt signed by Selena Gomez. Photo: Bridger Maxwell
Okay, so before, you tell me that this story is made up, check out the receipt with Selena Gomez’s autograph above. Yes, it’s hers.
Anyway, back to the story.
After having just tried — and failed — to win tickets to see Wicked, I go to a nearby Thai Restaurant, the Siam Inn, with the awesome, Bridger Maxwell. By the way, I totally take credit for selecting the restaurant. Sorry, man!
We step inside and are led to the back. I accidentally take the wrong seat — meaning not sitting all the way against the wall –, which turns out to be that much closer to two of the biggest celebrities currently tugging at the heartstrings of pre-teens and teens (and adults) world-wide. Go figure.
Minutes pass, and we attempt to figure out what to eat — I end up selecting a delicious salmon and mango salad — when a large party gets seated to my left. I don’t notice who it is, or pay them any attention. Suddenly, I receive a text from Bridger: “We are sitting next to Bieber.” I look up and scoff. What? You must mean some impersonator, right? But, no. I look over shyly, and instantly recognize the hair. The voice. The diamond stud earrings.
That’s him alright.
A few minutes in stunned silence, combined with a ridiculous amount of giddy texting to friends and family, go by. Then, the realization: Wow, he’s sitting next to Selena Gomez. How cute, right?
It’s even more difficult to concentrate on holding a conversation. My journalistic brain turns on instead, prompting ideas about how to capture this scene in writing and what questions to ask. No, that’s not socially acceptable at all. Oops.
I force myself to stop focusing on these thoughts and start listening to what they’re saying. For some reason, everything the young couple says suddenly becomes the most important thing in the world.
Here’s what I learn: Justin has his heart set on Orange Chicken. Sorry, Biebs, this isn’t a Chinese Restaurant. But who can blame him? It’s good from what I can recall (I’ve been a vegetarian for four years now), but not at all Thai, or Chinese for that matter.
Speaking of vegetarianism, Justin doesn’t seem too keen about the whole idea when a man sitting at the table — a bodyguard presumably — brings up the topic. At the same time, Justin assures the table that he has, in fact, tried being one for about a month. Who knew? Justin’s point, why not get the protein from the real stuff? The kid’s a carnivore. Okay, I can dig it.
The food arrives, eating commences at both tables, along with the eavesdropping, etc., etc. Bridger wants very badly to ask for a photograph of Selena for his cousins. I leave for a minute to use the restroom, he asks, and gets turned down. “We’re eating dinner,” Justin allegedly says. It’s understandable.
Upon my return, it’s time to pick up the check. We’re patiently waiting for it, taking in the scene, when one of the women sitting at the celebrity table — not sure who she was, sorry! — leaves the table. She soon comes back with a receipt in hand.
The woman stops by Selena, who signs it. Not thinking much of it, we decide it’s probably getting autographed for a starstruck waiter. Instead, the woman places the receipt on our table, thanks us for being fans, and lets us know the check has been paid. (See above for the signed receipt).
Yup, Selena Gomez just bought us dinner.
Thanking them profusely, we begin to leave when Justin stops us momentarily. “Have a good one,” he says.
And that, my newfound Twitter followers, is the story of how Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber paid for my dinner.
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