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Play day!! Since it’s a New York-y thing to do, we made sure we got in a theatre excursion while we were there and decided to go on our first night. I was up to see anything until T found out that my favourite actress in the whole world, Jennifer Coolidge (genius of comedic timing that she is), was in a play that I could actually go see WITH MY OWN EYES! This is awesome news. I equate it with what it would be like for T to see Donald Sutherland live in something. (She’s a big fan, it would kick a**). And in support of her, he is the shiznit (is that even cool to say anymore?). Also, while we’re on the topic of DS, I think you should see the movie M.A.S.H. if you haven’t already. It’s freakin’ excellent and Donald Sutherland is at his finest. But I digress.

So off we go, tickets securely in hand and as we’re settling in at an amazingly close two rows from the front, I get a stern word of warning from T to not go nuts when JC comes out on stage, this is the thee-ay-ta after all and I must remain calm and dignified. I am proud to report that I behaved myself and was a paragon of decorum through the entire production. Absolutely no shouting out...until near the end of the play (which also had Brendan Fraser and Russell the Vampire King of Mississippi) when those two actors stripped off everything from their lower half and left their junk exposed (that means we saw his “bird” for my friends from Newfoundland – you know who you are) and T (naughty girl) yelled out loudly, but in very charming French, “OH, MON DIEU!”. Ahem. T. Try to control yourself.

Delightful anecdote you say? – but wait - it ain’t over!!!

It took us a few minutes to actually get up and out of our seats at the end because we waited for people to clear out so I could stealthily switch from theatre appropriate heels (I am a lady after all) to something that wouldn’t make my feet bleed while walking around Times Square after the play. By the time we got outside, there was an unfamiliar sight for mine Canadian eyes…a red carpet, velvet ropes, a shiny black SUV, security by the stage door, a throng of fans…What is this? What’s going on? I hear from somewhere near the stage door “the actors will be coming out momentarily. You can take photos and they will sign your Playbill”. T calls it – we’re sticking around. Oh hells, yeah! Brendan Fraser comes out first, signs some autographs, is very nice, chats with some fans for a few minutes. I get a few quick photos and then…crap…low battery. Oh no no no no no…don’t die on me before JC gets out here. But wait, I have my cell phone – it’s got a camera – so I get that bad boy out and am ready to snap away. Then the door opens and I see a haze of blond hair and start maniacally clicking photos with both the camera and cell phone. (click, click, cli-cli-cli-cli-click). I got a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. I could do a stop motion movie with the amount of photos. Now, in my defence…umm…okay, I have no defence. I am just an over-clicker. On my other trips I had just as many photos of dolphins or pandas. I just take a ridiculous amount of pictures. That’s hows I rolls. You must simply choose to find it a charming aspect of my personality, that is all.

But it was awesome…JC was gracious and charming and T managed to slip her way through to get my Playbill signed (yay, T!!) before my clicker fingers completely froze up.

In our next instalment: How do I get out of the Rembrandt room?

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