Have you ever had a celebrity sighting? What did you do? Did you stare? Run? Talk to him? Take a picture of her? Ask for an autograph? Scream like a young Beatles fan?
The latter is what happened when my sister-in-law and I saw Wicked in NYC (more on this later, because it was so absolutely unwickedly wonderful!). We were sitting in our very good orchestra seats waiting for the show to begin. A very New York looking couple had come in and sat two rows behind us. The man was dressed all in black, and the usher shook his hand when he sat him down. I sort of looked at him, but I really noticed the woman, who was dressed in this very short red draped dress--sleeveless, and with lots of gold chains or belts or something on her. She definitely stood out from the rest of the matinee show crowd who were dressed more comfortably than stylishly. I didn't stare but did point out the flashy woman to my sister-in-law.
Then the screaming began. From the back of the first level, there was standing up, screaming, and pointing. I honestly thought that a rat or a dog was loose and people were watching it run around. We kept turning, but didn't see anything. Then we heard people around us talking about ER. It suddenly clicked for me, so we turned and looked again. Indeed this is who was sitting two rows behind us:
At intermission, we and everyone else around us turned, and they were gone! The woman who had been beside them had to tell all the teeny boppers who actually came down to the seat (and even took pictures in the seat he had occupied), that they had left right before Intermission. Right after the show began, they returned to their seats, and again left the theater right before it was over.
While all the screaming was going on, and we were turning trying to figure out what all the hubbab was, he was staring straight ahead. Deadpan. No expression at all. My sister-in-law said that she locked eyes with him, and his expression still never changed. She wanted to ask him what happened on ER last week, because she missed it, but it was too bad that he wasn't available for questions (since you can't read the tone, I will go ahead and say that this was sarcastic, and she of course would not have asked him about the ER show she missed. . . probably).
As calm and cool as I tried to be, it was sort of distracting being that close to a "star." In fact, after we verified that he had returned for the second half, I heard him laugh out loud, and jabbed my sister-in-law to let her know, "I just heard John Stamos laugh. Did you hear it?" I know that some of this is natural, and even self-imposed in their line of work, and I certainly don't pity him or other celebrities, but it must be so annoying. It made me appreciate the fact that I could simply enjoy my little afternoon of freedom from the sometimes-boring routine life I lead at home caring for my home and family.
Wait--maybe there are more similarities between us than I first imagined. He had to dodge the attention of adoring fans while trying to enjoy an afternoon out. I had to plan an afternoon out so that I could dodge the attention of my adoring kids. It's hard to be so beloved, eh?