Nicer Than Some People

Last week I interviewed Paris Hilton for Genlux magazine. I know that what I'm about to say will cause some of you to leave me mean comments, or take me off your blogroll, or send me text messages that say 'Sellout!' (And that's just from my mother.)

So here goes.

I actually liked her.

(Okay, now I know at least one of you will leave a bag of flaming dog poop on my doorstep, to which I say, bring it on - our cat has taken a crap twice on our bed, so don't think I can't handle some poop packaged neatly in a bag.)

I admit I used to roll my eyes occasionally when I heard her name, and even cringed a little when I heard I'd be interviewing her. But I have to say she was actually one of the nicest, and most gracious people I've ever met. Nicer than most celebrities I've met. Hell, nicer than some non-celebrities I've met. Certainly nicer than most non-celebrities I've met in Trader Joes.

I can't divulge much of our interview until the issue comes out, but she did surprise me with her sense of humor, her business smarts and her take on politics. Some of it made it into the interview, and some didn't. Some of it, like her political views, were said off the record and she asked (very nicely) that it not be included in the interview. I'm going to save the tape, though, in case she is ever asked to be the Vice Presidential nominee and then that thing is going straight over to the National Enquirer to help pay for my new kitchen.

We met on the rooftop of this new hotel in Beverly Hills. They have a private bar up there with cabanas, and apparently Paris likes to hang out there. A few days prior to the interview I was told we'd be meeting at Paris' house, which I'm glad didn't happen - I've never set foot in a celebrity's home, and I'm not sure I'd know how to act. I think the urge to steal something would be too great - surely she wouldn't miss these two nice diamond encrusted urns, or this rack of Chanel dresses? And then I'd have to take some pictures of myself when she wasn't looking, maybe lounging in her bathtub pretending to soap myself down with my tape recorder.

There were two interviews before me, and Paris was running late. One of her assistants was already there and told us to order whatever we wanted to eat and drink from the bar, so we did. Which was preferable to what I would have been doing, which is selling after-school snacks on the playground at Kiyomi's school. Call me shallow, but I think I totally deserved that nice glass of chardonnay and those curried tuna rolls after years of hawking juice boxes and Cheez-Its to grade-schoolers in the hot sun.

Paris arrived, surprisingly without an entourage and with only her manager. She apologized to everyone for being late, then got down to business, blazing through two interviews (one with AP and one with Reuters) and a photo shoot in the span of around an hour. I had the most time for my interview, around 90 minutes, during which time she only stopped once to take a phone call from her sister Nicky. I, on the other hand, had to pause around five times to check my tape recorders since I'm always convinced I'm going to get home and there'll be nothing on there but static. Or, that one of them will fail and then the recorder that contains the only good recording will fall underneath my tire as I'm fumbling for my keys and then my car will accidentally shift into gear and roll over it. It's really exhausting, this whole paranoia thing.

After the whole thing was over she gave me a hug, posed for a picture on my iPhone and then asked if she could write a little note to each of my girls, which she did. I decided to hang out there for awhile, have an espresso and really milk this whole celebrity-on-a-rooftop vibe, even though I had to pay for that coffee myself. Oh, and I checked those tape recorders one more time.

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tags: paris hilton | genlux magazine

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