There's Nobody Holmes

"Some famous people come to the dance studio I work at," my friend said.

"Like who?" I asked.

My friend named a few names that didn't interest me and then ended with, "Katie Holmes."

About halfway through high school I fell in love with Katie Holmes. She played Joey Potter, the hottest chick on DAWSON'S CREEK. I loved it when she rolled her eyes and smiled her half smile and wore really short shorts to show off her kick ass legs. I'd often think Dawson was a tool for not being into her and being into Michelle Williams, instead. I mean, Michelle Williams is great and all, but she's no Katie Holmes.

This was before she married Tom Cruise, and I gotta say, I never quite understood what the big deal was about the Oprah / couch-jumping thing. I could kinda see where Cruise was coming from, because if Katie Holmes had ever married me I imagine I would have probably done something way stupider than that. Like pissing my pants, for instance. Or crying.

"You work the front desk, don't you?" I asked.

"Yes," my friend said.

"Then you have access to everyone's contact information?" I asked.

"Yeah," my friend said.

"Then you could get me Katie Holmes' phone number?" I asked.

"Maybe," my friend said. "I guess. I don't know if I should."

"Yeah," I said. "You're probably right."

Later that night, when I got home, there was a voice mail waiting for me, and it was my friend leaving a message.

"I got the number," she said. Then, she reeled it off. I nearly pissed my pants. Then I nearly cried.

I wrote it down. I couldn't believe it. I woke up that morning just my normal self. A few short hours later I was in possession of Katie Holmes' telephone number. I sat in my room alone and stared at the scrap of paper with the number on it. Then I stared at the phone. Then I stared at the number some more.

"What do I do?" I wondered. Let's examine:

1) It's annoying to call anyone out of the blue and bother them, let alone a celebrity.

2) It might not even be her number.

3) Even if I get her on the phone, what am I going to say to her?

4) Are there any legal issues here? I mean, is this stalking? What's the deal?

I mulled these questions over in my mind and pondered them in my heart. What Uncle Ben told Peter Parker in SPIDER-MAN was true: With great power comes great responsibility. Sure, I had the number. Now what? Decisions, decisions. Do I use my powers for good or evil?

Then, of course, there was the fantasy world of possibilities the phone number represented. Maybe it was Katie Holmes' number, or maybe it wasn't. If I never called, I'd never find out. If I never found out, I could always walk around believing I might have Katie Holmes' number and I could potentially call her any time I felt like it, whether it was actually her number or not. What was better -- a fantasy world of possibilities, or the truth?

I finally decided there was no way I could possess Katie Holmes' number and NOT call her. I knew even if it was her there was no chance anything cool was going to happen. I figured, I'd just call, see if it was her, make some excuse, and back out of the call. Or, if I got her machine, leave a message and see if she called me back.

So, I dialed. The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Suddenly, it picked up! My heart stopped.

"Hello. . .," a voice said.

It was an answering machine. I breathed a sigh of relief. The best of both worlds -- I called, but I don't have to deal with any actual humans. I can simply confirm whether or not it's Katie Holmes' number and call it good.

". . . you've reached the DAWSON'S CREEK production offices. . .," the voice continued.

I hung up. So, Katie Holmes, realizing the girls who work behind the counter at the dance place would give her number out to their pervy friends with questionable motives, had left the number for the DAWSON'S CREEK production offices.

Well played, Katie Holmes.