So there I was working out in the Trump SoHo gym alone at 9:00 PM to the song “Get Back” by rapper Ludacris, a song I have obsessively played since seeing the movie Tropic Thunder featuring Tom Cruise’s knockout performance as Les Grossman.
“Heads up! Heads up!
Here’s another one!
And a – and another one …” (Get Back)
All day the hotel was buzzing with celebrity clientele, and I had already seen Ghandi having a lunch meeting with Borat and a Will & Grace star hanging out in the lobby. I was staying in a gorgeous Penthouse Suite, and working out was my late night penance for the delicious chocolate dipped strawberries I had received earlier in the day by Management.
Trump SoHo
Within a few minutes, I was no longer alone. In walked a young black man who looked oddly familiar. My first thought? He looks a lot like Ludacris without the bling.
Could you imagine? I’m listening to his music and voila! Here he is!
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a celeb in a luxury hotel gym. Benjamin Bratt almost dropped a weight on my foot a few years ago, and Glee’s Jane Lynch once told me I had a great body in Vancouver.
I quietly retreated into to a corner with my iPhone and Googled “Ludacris peace tattoo.” I had noticed the word on his arm, and figured there must be some sort of fan website obsessed with his ink. Google told me Ludacris did indeed have a peace tattoo, but I still wasn’t convinced so I Googled “Ludacris height.” Google said he was 5’7 and I’m 5’7 so I decided to walk over to the weights next to him and see if we stood side by side. We did.
He was playing with the TV asked me if I knew what channel the basketball game was on. I told I did not and started to do some sit-ups. My 50 sit-ups turned into 100 sit-ups until I finally worked up the courage to ask, “Do you live here?” He replied no and that he was here in New York filming a movie called “New Year’s Eve” with an all star cast including Hilary Swank.
Chris Bridges
I asked him his name, and he introduced himself as Chris Bridges. “Ludacris?” I asked. He nodded yes. I pointed to my iPod, “Would you believe I’m working out to your song right now? Get Back. It’s the best workout song ever.” He laughed and said thanks.
We spent 10 minutes chatting about all sorts of things including the where he lived, his family, acting, his trips to the Caribbean for various music fests and the spa. He even told me bad boy Chris Brown was staying in the hotel after his tumultuous visit to Good Morning America just that morning, thus the paparazzi swarming the hotel.
I asked him if he ever came to Boston and he said he did sometimes and loved it because that’s where all the Gangsters are. “Like Bobby Brown?” I asked. He again laughed in a very boyish non-rapper kind of way.
Tonight he was more of a Chris than a Ludacris.
I left the gym wondering if anyone would believe my encounter. It really is a ludicrous story, isn’t it!
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“Why pay the garage when we can park and get something at Saks too?” I said convincingly to my husband. Hesitantly he agreed, and we marched up to Saks where I quickly moved from Estee Lauder over to Chanel with such familiarity as if it were my own living room; in a few short minutes I had purchased a “much needed” Chanel compact and got my parking ticket validated.
