On April 23, 1977, Kalpen Suresh Modi was born, and on March 21, 1984, I was born. We went on to do different things; he got to work for Obama, I almost made the cut to be a Disney Princess in Orlando. Though it seemed unlikely our life paths would ever cross, I have been dead set on making that happen. And I have failed, failed, failed.
I am not one of those people who is shy about her crushes. I HAVE A CRUSH ON KAL PENN. It began the first time I saw “The Namesake” in 2007. I had just moved to New York City and was feeling lonely, and I went to the Paris Theater by myself with a box of Dots and some whiskey and cried my little blue eyes out. I wanted to be that blonde bitch who got to date Kal so bad I had visions of pulling off some weird-ass “Silence Of The Lambs” shit on her. No matter that she didn’t get to date him in real life. Because here’s something you are about to learn about me: I don’t care about real life. I am all about fantasy all the time. Like getting to make out with Kal Penn. I want to lick those lips in circles until the Hindi cows come home. I want to run my hand through his locks and cup his butt cheeks.
After that night, my obsession was strengthened. I purchased the Italian version of “Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle,” “American Trip,” and started to watch it nearly as often as I brushed my teeth.
In February 2008, I thought my fantasy and my reality would collide when Neil Patrick Harris, KP’s co-star in “Harold and Kumar,” accidentally stepped on my foot at show.
“I think you owe me a beer!” I said coyly, gingerly pushing him.
“All right,” he replied and brought me a beer.
After some chit chat I got down to business: “Are you friends with Kal Penn?”
“Kal Penn’s my boy!” NPH said.
I told him that next time he saw his boy, he should tell him there is a blonde vegetarian in NYC who wants to eat veggie burgers with him. I had read that Kal Penn, a vegetarian, had special vegetarian sliders made for the last scene in “Harold and Kumar”where he has to inhale hundreds of burgers. He wanted his acting to be authentic. His co-star, John Cho, didn’t actually eat the sliders because he doesn’t care about creating masterful pieces of art.
Just as I thought we were getting somewhere my friends came up and flipped out because I was drinking with Doogie Howser and NPH left immediately.
I returned home feeling defeated (if that didn’t secure me a KP make-out session, what would?), but still clinging to the empty beer bottle, which now resides on my book shelf and I’d like to be buried with it.
In April, 2008, I was almost trampled then beaten to a pulp to secure a primo seat at the opening of “Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.” Apparently, there are other Kal Penn fans out there. They had no idea what they were up against. Sadly, KP was not in attendance.
I don’t want to bore you, so I’ll just quickly recap June through November 2008. I tried to become Kal Penn’s friend on Facebook but was denied (three times), I watched a bunch of lesser known Kal Penn movies, such as “Ball & Chain,” and while they were awful, I appreciated them in unexpected ways. I wrote Kal Penn a heartfelt letter (which he might have interpreted as obsessive), sent it by snail mail, and have been anxiously checking my mailbox ever since for a reply. Still waiting, KP. Would it be so hard? How many fans like me do you really have?
In November 2008, Kal Penn was back in the spotlight with his “Adopt 5″ YouTube campaign where he urged Floridians to find five undecided voters and con them into voting for Obama. If everyone did that, he said, we’d win. And in an attempt to leech off his altruistic act, I posted my own video, bragging about my Ohio citizenship and how I found five voters of my own. I called it “Re: Kal Penn for Adopt 5.”
It was around this time that friends started torturing me with the fun fact that Kal Penn is probably gay. Like I said, I live in fantasy land. I don’t care.
Jump to April, 2009. As I’m sure you remember, Kal Penn started to work at the White House, something he basically ended up having nothing to show for. “Outreach with the American public and with different organizations?” What does that even mean? Don’t quit your day job, Kal. I’m freaking serious. Do NOT quit your day job.
Exciting news in April, 2010! Kal Penn went back to Hollywood to start filming “A Very Harold And Kumar 3D Christmas,” thank God, which made me so excited I inadvertently crapped my drawers. The film was released on November 5, 2011, a day I had circled in my calendar in pink, sparkly pen. In my excitement, I got completely trashed, dragged my boyfriend to the theater, gave him a hand job during the opening credits, and passed out, missing the entire movie. I returned the next day, alone, for a private viewing.
And here we are, in November of 2012. I have seen the movies, stalked the shit out of this boy, and done my best to reach out to him. But I still have yet to receive a single letter in response, a single tweet back, a single Facebook friendship acceptance.
There is only one explanation: Kal Penn does not exist. He can’t. If he did, my efforts would have resulted in some sort of run-in. He would have accidentally accepted one of my Facebook requests or his manager would have sent me a canned letter in reply to my love notes. I would have run into him on the streets of New York City. I am constantly hunting for him. He must be a robot. A beautiful, big-lipped, Indian robot who haunts my dreams and has raised my standards for men so high they will never be exceeded.
If you ever get proof that Kal Penn is real, please let me know. And tell him there is a blonde vegetarian in NYC still waiting to eat veggie sliders with him. I will wait for as long as it takes. Consider this my last-ditch effort to woo him.