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This week I learned something about myself. When I see a celebrity, my immediate response is to point at them with a shocked look on my face and say, not too loudly, “Oh My God. That’s _______!” I don’t scream, or move really. It’s like I go into shock. The level of excitement is so high that I literally have no idea what to do.

This is not a one time thing. I know that it is my automatic reaction because over the past week I’ve had my first “real” celebrity sighting, followed a few days later by a separate second sighting.

Last Wednesday, I finally went to see the Nance. There are basically only two reasons that I went: 1. Nathan Lane and 2. Nathan Lane (ok, fine, three, because we got rush tickets. But Nathan Lane!). So, I convinced Claire to come along with me, even though I had to explain to her who Nathan Lane was! (We’ve clearly resolved this through the following encounter in addition to watching the Birdcage this weekend.) We met up at the theatre to get rush tickets for that night, and as we were waiting in the lobby, lo and behold, “Oh My God. That’s Nathan Lane!” and I stood there, a giddy pointing statue as Nathan Lane walked by directly on the other side of the glass door wearing some snazzy yellow-rimmed sunglasses.

I was basically in heaven having seen him before the show and then watching him on stage. I eagerly leaned forward in my seat like a five-year old. And suddenly, 40 minutes in, an unexpected voice comes booming through the theatre that they have to stop the performance due to a technical difficulty and the curtain falls! What?! I turn to Claire, “Gosh I hope nobody got hurt!” My little cynic responds that she wouldn’t be surprised if Nathan Lane threw a hissy fit.

The gall. My Nathan Lane? Never.

Twenty minutes later, the curtain rises with an announcement that the part of Chauncey, NATHAN LANE’S CHARACTER, is to be played by the UNDERSTUDY. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such disappointment and utter heartbreak in my life (it’s true, no boyfriend has caused me such pain as this).

I have seen shows where the understudy has filled in, but never before has an understudy come in during the middle of the show to replace the star. The entire theatre deflated. The energy, gone. Momentum, lost.

The following day, we heard that Nathan Lane injured his foot during that performance. (Nathan Lane, if you read this, first of all… “hi, simply hi!” I hope that your foot is doing better and I want you to know that for those 40 minutes that we saw you on stage, you were wonderful.)


A few days later, my fellow Into the City ladies and I were walking into 30 Rock when Stephen Colbert walks by us in the other direction through the revolving doors. Again, I became a pointing, giddy statue, quietly declaring, “Oh My God. That’s Stephen Colbert!” To which Supriya responds, “Who is Stephen Colbert?!”

Welcome to New York.