Me and Spike Lee Part 4

My stomach was growling, and on a normal day, I would have sprinted to sample one of everything that didn’t involve red meat. But this was no normal day. I needed a photo with Spike Lee. Part of me wanted the proof that I randomly came halfway across the world, only to encounter the same successful role model who happened to drop by my humble, Midwestern university about four years earlier. Part of me just wanted to ask about that fax number again.

I finished my second glass of red wine and approached Sky and Mike.

“Mike, come take a picture with Spike Lee and me!”

“Nah,” he said, swaying his head back and fourth. “I’m not really in too the whole celebrity thing.”

“But he’s not like a regular celebrity. He’s Spike Lee. He’s cool. We’re like this.” I crossed my index and middle finger in the universal symbol for “tight” or “best friends”. It was something I’d been doing for the last several days. Every time someone asked if I was going to see Spike Lee, I repeated the gesture and told him or her about how Spike Lee and I go way back. “Sky, come take a picture with Spike Lee and me.”

“I’ll take a picture of you with Spike Lee,” Sky tried to compromise.

“No, no. You have to be in the picture with me.” For some reason, even after two glasses of red wine, I couldn’t seem to muster up the courage to be a total film geek and get my picture with a famous director.

“Hey,” Mike joked. “Do you think Spike Lee is on Facebook? I’m going to be like, hey, Spike, if you get a random poke on Facebook, don’t worry. It’s just me. I want to give him bunny ears. Hey, will you take a picture of me giving Spike Lee bunny ears?”

Everyone had a defense mechanism against Spike Lee. Mike hid behind his childish jokes. Sky acted apathetic but helpful to those who cared, and I was just scared. Eventually I convinced Sky to make is way to the other side of the pool, where people were lining up to get photos with Spike Lee. I had to get over there before he got tired of taking them.

There were two or three students in front of me, shaking hands, taking photos, and attempting to chat with Spike Lee. Each time I told myself I was next, an unworthy would jump in front of me. After about the third time that happened, I butted in front of someone else.
And there I stood, face to face with an old friend.

He was shorter than I remembered, and with heels on, I had to look downward to make eye contact. He was a bit older too, about my mom’s age, with patches of his black goatee graying around his chin. In the dark, I couldn’t tell if his jacket was black or navy blue, but it sported a red and white U.S.A. Olympic symbol, which Spike Lee complimented with a white shirt with a metallic red tie. And of course, he had his trademark “smart guy” glasses, which were round with leopard print frames. He was polite and patient, but not overly excited about his photo sessions.

I knew my opportune moment would be brief. Spike Lee had no time for deep conversation that night. I shoved my camera in someone’s hands. Then I shook hands with Spike Lee and introduced myself before spouting, “I-saw-you-speak-at-the-University-of-Missouri-Columbia-a-few-years-ago!” The sentence was one giant, strewn together word, and I cut myself off to wait for a reaction, gleaming giddily.

Spike Lee furrowed his brow and shifted his lips in thought for a second. “Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I think I remember that.”

Sky shook Spike Lee’s hand and did a much better job of presenting himself. “It’s really an honor to meet you, sir,” Sky said, mentioning he was also a Brooklyn kid just like Spike Lee.

“Oh, yeah. What high school did you go to?” Spike Lee asked. For the next twenty seconds Sky and Spike Lee discussed shared Brooklyn familiarities.

New Yorkers. They’re like one big club. And at that moment, I couldn’t help feeling like I was an invited guest in a room where everyone wore a Members Only jacket.

Sky and I snapped a quick photo with Spike Lee in the middle with one arm around each of us. His expression was simple. I’m not sure he realized the photo was being taken at that moment. Then Sky and I stepped aside and let others have their moment with Spike Lee. I never mentioned the fax number.

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