Green with Excitement

There was a reason I didn't want to get up for work today.
My current day job backstory is simple. I essentially work part-time at the office of my friend Ashley's dad's company. The idea being that she and I can make our own hours, keep each other company while at work and use the rest of our energies to do things like mail out headshots and search for auditions. I was, needless to say, a bit physically and emotionally exhausted after having seen the phenomenally moving (yet over 3 hour long) film "King Kong" last night. As a result, this morning I felt more like lying in bed, playing with my dog Bradshaw and reading a chapter of "Memoirs of a Geisha" than rushing into work amidst a possible Subway strike.
At just past noon I arrived in the lobby of the midtown Manhattan office building where I am employed and nodded casually to the security guard, just as I do every morning. It was only a moment or two later, as I passed into the four elevator waiting dock, that a most unexpected wave of excitement crashed over me and I began to feel with a strong sense of certainty that it would be some time before I was able to fully catch my breath again.
You see, as a person who comes to work every day at the Harper Collins Publishing building, I might be used to seeing my fair share of suits and secretaries. But it is certainly not every day that little old me is fortunate enough to not only witness, but rise skywards with a real, live witch.
I should clarify.
The real-life manifestation of the Wicked Witch of the West, as well as a hip East Village bohemian and an actress who I admire more than most any other on Broadway. Yes, today I had a date with destiny. The location was an elevator in the middle of New York City and my companion was none other than Elphaba herself (Maureen to the many fans of "Rent") also known as Tony Award winner Idina Menzel.
It was while waiting that short time for one of the elevators to arrive that, headphones still plugged in, I noticed a tiny, heavily bundled woman walk towards me. Instantly, my odd sixth sense told me exactly who this person was. It seems that in my time as a New Yorker I've developed a certain ability to spot any celebrity, no matter how obscure, just from the glimpse of a profile, the back of their head or the far off sound of their voice. Sometimes I'll just get a feeling from behind me and know immediately, through all forms of cover-up/ incognito/ hats/ hoods and the like just who that famous person is.
And Idina definitely had her share of tricks. While not a legitimate movie star in the vein of a Julia Roberts, Reese Witherspoon or even a, lets say, Rosario Dawson, she certainly carried herself like one. Head down at all times, enormous sunglasses in place and more fur and Ugg boots than J.Lo's worn in a lifetime, she looked not at all unlike Elizabeth Taylor sneaking in for a face lift.
We entered the elevator together alongside another gentleman dressed perhaps as a custodian and I giggled casually as I reached over her hand to press my floor's button at the same time as she reached up to press the button of hers. It was only once we were inside that I decided I would say something to her, as I'd had the chance to do only once before.
About a year and a half ago, in the middle of "Wicked's" Broadway reign, she and her husband Taye Diggs had stood before me for a good while at the host stand of the restaurant Vento, where I was working at the time. They were with friends, had come in for a late dinner after her performance and seemed casual and friendly. Taye was doting on her, she seemed tired but likeable and we had engaged in a short but witty dialogue. Idina had joked to me that she was taking more than one set of Vento Trattoria matches, as if this type of thing would be considered very impolite, and I had jokingly scolded her for ever dreaming of doing such a thing. It was all very pleasant, very relaxed, very New York. I'd wished them a good evening, they were on their way and that was the end of it. But as a fan of hers, particularly due to my great love for the character of Elphaba, the green witch she'd played in "Wicked," I'd always regretted not letting her know how much I cared.
So, today, as we climbed higher and higher together, much like Elphaba had done on stage in "Wicked's" pivotal Act One finale, I knew that my moment had come. I wouldn't fawn over her or jump up and down. But if she didn't necessarily need to know that she had affected me very deeply from high atop that stage, then I certainly knew that I needed to tell her for me.
The elevator doors opened. I had reached my exit point, taken my mark and was ready to deliver my line.
Heart pounding, never one to feel comfortable saying anything to celebrities unless we've been properly introduced, I gently touched the side of her arm, swept past her and turning, said, "You're amazing, by the way."
Taken off guard I'm sure, she nodded, giggling and said "Oh thank you. Thank you."
And as the elevator doors closed between us, barely even aware that I was looking her straight in the eyes, I simply nodded back and said,
"Amazing."