Why I will never make it in Hollywood

So this morning I was dropping off Monkey at LAX so that he could fly the friendly skies via Pet Airways to Colorado when who do I meet but none other than the star of Bored to Death, Jason Schwartzman. He was dropping off dog for a trip to NYC. We stood there for a few seconds exchanging pleasantries about each others respective pets while all his movies ran through my mind. Do I say something? Do I tell him I like Bored to Death even though his character is a bit Jewy? Before I could get the words out, Monkey decided to drop a man sized log basically on Mr. Schwartzman’s foot. I guess he was nervous. Damn it. Why does my dog have to ruin everything? Bad enough he has cancer. I awkwardly picked up his poop with the standard “this never happens inside" line coming out of my mouth. When I pushed my script (McDonald's receipt with my phone number written on it) into his chest he did not seem receptive at all. I totally blame my dog's bowel movement on my failure to get him attached to my latest egg mcmuffin project.