Company with Mr. Big

I spent my Thanksgiving weekend visiting my Mum and Dad in New York. On Saturday night, one of my buds from high school days of yore was generous enough to let me tag along with him for a preview performance of Stephen Sondheim and George Furth's Company. The show is a Broadway revival of the 1970 production. It's a gorgeous, innovative, and hilarious musical, and it stars Raúl Esparza, who most musical theater dorks will remember as Riff-Raff from The Rocky Horror Show. Boy, does he ever clean up well. This post isn't about Raúl, though.

So my friend and I had these sweet balcony box seats, and we got there a little early to watch the glitterati roll in. Suddenly, Adam pokes me and says, "Mr. Big just ran down the left aisle."

That would be Chris Noth, a/k/a Mr. Big of Sex & the City fame.

I was beside myself with delight. You see, my friend Amy recently moved to LA, and she's been kind enough to let me live vicariously through her star sighting stories. For example: In a span of three months, she's seen Laguna Beach's Jason Whaler at a sushi restuarant getting loaded. She also thought she saw The Sports Guy at a movie premiere, but it turned out to be someone else. And the piece de resistance? She sat at a Coffee Bean a few tables over from Adam Brody. Yes. He and gal pal Rachel Bilson share an apt in Amy's neighborhood. Like, wow!! Sigh!! Swoon!! I am not being sarcastic. I am genuinely very jealous.


Spotting Mr. Big was a thrill, but truth be told I'm sure it will turn into little more than a blip on my celeb-stalker radar should I ever have a run-in with Seth Cohen. Although -- Chris did look dapper for an evening of Broadway in his suit and tie. He also had nice teeth. I know this because periodically, I kept peering down at him during the show to check on whether he was enjoying the performance. He was.

After the play, Chris left before I could do anything drastic. Like, I don't know, run up to him and slap him across the face for what he did to Carrie all those years, then ask him to sing "Moon River," and then demand his autograph. Restraint is a wonderful quality, I'm told.

Would I be capable of showing the same class and grace should Mr. O.C. cross my path? Absofuckinlutely not.

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