About seven or eight years ago I was on the R train going downtown during the winter. I believe it was around 12 midnight on a weeknight. Either at 8th St or Bleeker or 14th St, this tall, cute woman got on the nearly empty car I was in and sat down about 12 feet away in the next section of seats. She was wearing a short white down jacket or vest and a combination of white and bright red clothes (red sneakers, white pants, red shirt, red, wool, dorky-girl hat with never-used chin ties hanging from the sides). I briefly thought I'd chat her up but then said, "Fuck it -- it's late and I'm tired." I then noticed she was looking at a schedule for The Anthology Film Archives. I thought, "Hell, I'd talk to a guy reading the schedule."
I slid over and asked her if there was "anything good in there." She turned and answered me and I saw that it was Molly Ringwald, totally beautiful in person.
Now, I've met some celebrities including some people who are kind of heroes of mine, and I don't usually get flustered. But this was so unexpected, and let's face it -- it was Molly Ringwald -- I struggled not to be tongue tied but I was. We chatted for a minute or two and it was pleasant enough but I felt like I was sweating like Chris Farley and Meatloaf on a rain forest marathon race.
Anyway, I happened to get off at the same stop as her (Prince Street) and I saw her give me that look over her shoulder that said, "PLEASE don't try to follow me and talk to me, I HATE THAT." I skulked away in the other direction, lumped together with stalkers, heavy breathers, and the Legion of Socially Inappropriate by one of my favorite celebrity crushes. "No ice cream for you," I thought.
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