Hiltons

Um...so...apparently the man I sat on the couching talking to for over an hour the other night - about music and traveling - was Mr. Hilton. THEE Mr. Hilton, as in Paris, her sister (whatever her name is) and their little bro Tyler. I mean, I knew it was Tyler Hilton and his band that I was hanging out with, and his father that I was chatting with. I assumed he/they/someone must have some connections, considering they were playing at US Bank Arena and opening for Hillary Duff. But it never crossed my mind that Tyler Hilton and his father might possibly be THEE Hilton's. Even after hanging out with them back in their hotel room - at The Hilton - knowing well that the other opening band was staying at a much lesser hotel.
It was only tonight - a week later - when the other girl (the bartender at Viper Room) mentioned the presence of Paris and how cool it was that the revelation came.
That's fucking funny.
At one point I said to Mr. Hilton "Hmm. You rock. So are you someone I should give my demo cd to?" He very casually replied, "Yeah, I'm probably someone who could help you out."