The two-time Oscar winner happened to be sitting behind me at a special screening the other night, and everyone was eyeing her as if she was a pinata hanging from the ceiling.
Finally, a man sitting nearby boldly leaned over and said, “Hi, Jessica. I met you once.”
“It was because I know John [so-and-so],” he continued.
Eek. Umm. Zzz.
“You’re sitting so close to me, I thought I had to say something,” he concluded.
“Did you really have to say something? Why don’t you just shut your fucking pie hole and don’t ever lay eyes on a star again or you’ll explode from the ballsiness!”
That’s what she should have said.
But Jessica Lange was nice. She smiled and simply uttered the words, “Thank you.”
And though that would have surely been enough for a star of that magnitude, she then added, “Do you teach at NYU, too?”
A lovely bonus bit of conversation to make the man feel less awkward.
“No,” he stumbled. “I just know, um, John.”
As that incident fizzled out into the footnotes of embarrassing public spectacles, another one threatened to erupt.
A journalist I know lurched over to me and murmured, “Isn’t that Jessica Lange behind you? I almost brought her third best friend here!”
“Oy,” I moaned. “Don’t tell her that. Who cares? Just leave her alone!”
“All right, I know,” she said, going back to her seat.
But just then, Jessica Lange leaned over to her and asked to borrow her pen! And then she returned it, with a gracious “Thank you.”
Like I said, she’s nice!