I hate the Paparazzi
I have a neighbor named Zac. He's always pleasant and holds the elevator door open for me when he doesn't have to. Young, unassuming, and a generally-likable guy. Little did I know that my neighbor became one of young Hollywood's breakout stars virtually overnight. I noticed that he was on the cover of People magazine one day with this young girl I sometimes saw him hanging out with. Little did I know that my neighbor was Zac Efron. I sometimes wondered if the paparazzi would ever show up to my house, especially after the whole nude picture fiasco concerning his girlfriend came to light, but I always thought, no, I live in a quiet neighborhood, far from Hollywood. The paparazzi would never come to my house.
My boyfriend and I went to take our eight-month-old son for a walk. Typical, suburban boring stuff. Upon trying to exit the front door, approximately 8 paparazzos and 1 paparazza were blocking the front door.
What follows is the exchange: