I made it a solo evening in the city. The brilliant actor Martin Moran was performing his one man show based on his brave memoir The Tricky Part.
It's excellent, and I highly recommend the read. I knew it would be one of those intimate shows that would make me want to be alone afterwards, so I didn't ask any friends if they wanted to come with me. I stayed for the question and answer session but remained quiet because I just wasn't ready to leave my seat. All I wanted to do was give the man a hug for being so exposed and honest, yet at peace. I didn't wait to say hi afterwards because I felt like anything I said would be ridiculous. Actually, I don't think I've ever said hi to him, not even after Cabaret. He's one of those few actors that leaves me tongue-tied.
I left the theatre and started making the unfamiliar trek back to Penn Station. I normally didn't go to see off-Broadway shows, so I usually never went beyond Lincoln Center. At least I knew to go south and that I would pass a few of the 1-2-3 subway stops along the way. This was the time of flip phones with no internet, therefore battery usage lasted longer.
The show let out early, so it was still pretty dusky outside. I was pondering just how far I would walk and if my shoes would hold out. The show was still running through my mind, so I was in no hurry. As I started making my way through the 60s, I looked up and saw a very familiar face coming towards me. He looked me up and down and smiled. And then I realized that I was just checked out in passing by Evan Handler, best known at the time as Harry Goldenblatt from Sex and the City.
I swear to it. I started laughing and called my mom.
One of my favorite things to do in the city was call my mom after a show. She was bedridden and couldn't get out to see shows with me, but she lived vicariously through me and my experiences. We listened to showtunes and watched as many clips as we could and giggled over actors. Naturally, I had to tell her what just happened. By that point, the dark sky was setting in and the buildings were lighting up. The breeze felt amazing, and the city was quiet yet bustling on that Monday night. I knew I had to walk the whole way to Penn. She was a little worried about me, as a mother does, but I reassured her that I was in probably one of the safest areas of the whole city and knew what I was doing.
We stayed chatting on the phone as I kept walking. I knew it made her feel better, and I also enjoyed having her "with" me on such a beautiful night. I made it past Columbus Circle, and it started getting a lot darker. I was passing 54th Street when two men made a right in front of me. I looked at the one on my right and almost fell down.
I'm not kidding, I cupped my mouth and started whispering in the phone "MOM OMG I THINK CHRISTOPHER WALKEN IS IN FRONT OF ME." I got a little closer to try and hear his vocal pattern, and yeah....yeah. He must have just come from seeing Assassins. I was so excited to be in the presence of such greatness, but I had to be as quiet as possible. They went in a different direction, and I practically danced through Times Square.
It was such a random night. It was such a random and beautiful Monday night in New York City. It's times like those that I wish I lived in closer proximity to have experiences like those more often. But hey, it makes the times I do go all the more special.
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