My friend Larissa came out to visit me and our now-mutual friend Katie this week, and we've been having a great time playing in the city.
On Friday Riss and I spent all day walking around the city (I had an unexpected day off, due to some strange and surprising complaints the folks at Columbia made about me that had my status here in limbo, but I think it's mostly sorted out now and I don't expect to be coming home early. Sorry Jared).
We started off at South Street Seaport, where we got some discounted Broadway tickets at the booth there, then noticed an Amazon rain forest exhibit that had been set up nearby. The line was long so we didn't go in, but we managed a minor celebrity sighting: the host of the event was Adrianna Costa, who I know of from her gig as the host of the FOX reality show On the Lot.
To me, Ms. Costa looks like a Latina Scarlett Johansson (yes, another arbitrary look-alike connection I've made). But here's the weird part--I think Adrianna is gorgeous, but I've never been impressed by Scarlett, even though many people and magazines have dubbed her the sexiest woman alive (I'm also not a fan of her acting). I know my line of thinking here makes no sense; let's just move on.
In keeping with my policy of burying the lead, I have once again buried the lead in this post. The night before, Larissa, Katie and I attended Young Frankenstein, a new Broadway version of the classic Mel Brooks film. Before we found our seats, we headed down to the bathroom, and as I brought up the rear of our party I saw the following scene unfold:
An old man was walking into the bathroom, but it was the women's bathroom! I saw Riss pull up, taken aback by what she saw and not sure if she should follow him into the bathroom. At the same time, Katie grabs Larissa to stop her from walking into the bathroom, assuming THEY were going into the wrong one (now that's a good friend--assuming a senile old man knows where he's going better than her friend, a veteran of 30+ Broadway audiences in the last five years, including several in that theater).
The best part...the old man comes back out a few seconds later (I didn't hear any screams, so I'm not sure what tipped him off that he had made a mistake), and I saw that it was GARRY MARSHALL! Yes, I saw the director of Pretty Woman and Beaches (ironically, Marshall was also one of the judges on Costa's On the Lot show) walk into the women's bathroom of the Hilton Theater. Which is a way better tale of celebrity embarrasment than my mission story of witnessing the band Filter misuse the word "pants" in a Glasgow kilt shop.