Edward Dunn, an editor from the Sacramento News and Review was there with his camera. He shook my hand and said that he just wanted to come by to see how it the contest would turn out.  I thanked him, and told him that I wasn't sure yet, but that things looked promising. He snapped a couple of photos and disappeared. A few days later, Mark told me that Tony had found the story in the Sacramento News and Review.

I recognized Eric, from Ericisgreat.com, and he smiled and made an out loud  mock-discovery/announcement to no one in particular: "HEY! IS THAT ROB COCKERHAM FROM COCKEYED.COM?" He and his crew, including Kerry and Ken snapped photos, but did not give chase as we wheeled away.

Our next stop was Fredrick's of Hollywood. Within a minute of arriving, hiding amongst the lace corsets and crotchless panties, a burst of flashes went off in the store.

The gal behind the counter had a strong reaction. "Is someone taking pictures in here!?" "Oh no! You are not allowed to take pictures  in here!". Stacy and I tried to ignore someone getting chased out of the store.

I had hopes that the photo had been scandalous!

We left Fredrick's and caught up with Michelle and Stephanie poised with cameras outside the Briar Patch Cigar Shoppe. They clicked away as we approached.

Michelle had been in Fredrick's, but was not caught with the camera. We chatted for a few minutes and thanked them for coming. From across the corridor, I could see one photographer with a long lens snapping shots of this encounter. This turned out to be Melissa.

We were being hounded by the paparazzi!

As we left Michelle and Stephanie, an unknowing shopper (pictured in a white hat) asked us if we were famous. We joked with him that we must be.

About 13 photographers showed up, approaching us singly, and in groups, then mostly fading into the crowd or being left in our wake.

We walked back, past the food court and carousel, where I heard the voice of a father  exclaim "there he is!", followed by the a flash by the youngest paparazzo (John's daughter). I laughed. This was incredible.

We got downstairs again somehow, and managed a few minutes of peace inside the warm retail confines of Pottery Barn. As we left, we zipped across the corridor to visit Jessie in front of Sephora.

It was at this point that the photographers began to gather, like a flashing thunderhead.  Six or seven cameras formed a semi-circle around the action, snapping away.  An open space between us defied travel-thru, so traffic slowed, and a crowd gathered. The crowd did not address Stacy or I. Instead, the cameramen were swamped with questions. They asked about  my credentials, street and otherwise.

please continue reading page four of the Paparazzi Contest