Some of these stories are more sightings than interactions, but this story is definitely hands on. Ahem.
It was June of 2017. Richard and I were "marching" with my then-employer, Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, in the Pride Parade. I put that word "marching" in quotes because participating in the parade meant waiting on a side street for three to four hours until we were given access to the street and then standing still or walking very slowly once we did get in the damn street. We often peeled off after about a half hour in the street. I'm pretty sure the last year we did it we gave up before we even made it onto the street.
So there we were, June of 2017. We were hanging out with my work friends, talking, amusing ourselves, and who walked by but this impossibly handsome and hunky guy who I recognized.
ME: Oh my God, Rafael Alencar!
RAFAEL: Yes, hi there!
ME: Are you marching in the parade?
RAFAEL: Yes, I am. I'm cutting through here to get to my group.
ME: Let me introduce you to my husband. Richard, come over here. This is Rafael Alencar.
RAFAEL: Hello, Richard.
RICHARD: Nice to meet you.
ME: And I'm Chris.
RAFAEL: Nice to meet you, Chris.
ME: Could we get a picture with you?
RAFAEL: Of course.
I got my friend Jimmy to take a picture of the three of us. We said thank you and sent him on his way.
ME: Wow, can you believe it? Rafael Alencar.
RICHARD: Who is that guy? Is he someone you work with?
ME: No he's not someone I work with - - he's a porn star!!!!
RICHARD: I guess that explains why he was grabbing my nuts when we took the picture.
Yes, when Jimmy took the picture Rafael was grabbing my ass with his right hand and grabbing Richard's nuts with his left hand. I've told this story (and showed the picture) countless times and people are often unnerved by this moment in our interaction, in a "what an effrontery" kind of way. But I always assure them that it was entirely consensual. It wasn't spoken, but I guess he assumes that if we know him and know his first and last name, we're up for him handling us. And we were.
Early summer, 2009. It was a Sunday afternoon. Richard was meeting some old work friends for brunch and of course he was running late. I had laundry in the basement and was going downstairs to pick up some towels. We went down in the elevator together. He got off on 1, I took it down to B, propped the door open (unethical, I know), ran to the laundry room, got the towels, stepped in the elevator and pressed 5.
The elevator stopped on 1 and two women got in. A young woman somewhere in her 20s and Lucie Arnaz. They pressed 4.
LUCIE: Hello there.
ME: Well hi!
LUCIE: We're going to an open house on 4. Do you live here in the building?
ME: Yes, I do.
LUCIE: Do you like it?
ME: Yes, it's a great building.
LUCIE: And the neighborhood.
ME: It's a little tough but it's great. Are you Lucie Arnaz?
LUCIE: [laughs] Yes, I am.
ME: My husband is the biggest *I Love Lucy* fan on earth and he's going to fall over dead when he hears that I met you in our elevator.
LUCIE: [laughs] That's sweet.
We were at 4.
LUCIE: It was very nice to meet you.
ME: Likewise. And by the way, you were fantastic at the Tonys. You looked like a million bucks.
LUCIE: Well, wow. Thank you.
She and Kate Burton had presented an award a few weeks before. I felt a little funny talking with Lucie and only talking about *I Love Lucy* so I thought I'd throw that in.
This was sometime around 2017, I was walking home from work, on the Upper East Side, and somewhere around Madison and 62nd, there was Kevin Bacon. He was wearing a baseball cap, very dark sunglasses, and was talking on the phone. I had my eye on him as I approached him and smiled at him knowingly when I got close. He never stopped talking on the phone but acknowledged me with a knowing nod and a big smile, as a way of saying, "Good work, recognizing me through all this crap."
April 2005. I was walking home from work, heading west along the south edge of Central Park. I approached a beautiful rather large woman in a stunning robin's egg blue trenchcoat. I looked at her as I approached her and said, "Excuse me, are you Stephanie Blythe?" Yes, it was. She's an amazing opera singer, I told her about the five or eight shows I had seen her in at the Met.
We have a mutual friend, a singer friend of mine from college who had been her roommate in New York for a while. David Williams, for those of you who know him. She was very pleased to talk about David for a little while, clearly she loved him a lot. I was practically at the entrance to the subway and I said, "There was something I was going to ask you... Oh yes." And I asked her about a song cycle I heard seen her perform on some artsy cable channel a year or so before. I thought it would be perfect for a mezzo friend of mine (Kathy Otterson) and asked Blythe if it had been published. It hadn't been yet but she said the composer was hoping it would be soon. The thing that cracked me up, in retrospect, was the way I said it: "There was something I was going to ask you..." Like I made a mental note of a question I had if I ever ran into Stephanie Blythe in the street.
October 2006. St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn is a funky arts venue. They hired an avant garde theatre group called Les Freres Corbusier to do a Hell House. A Hell House is something that was done quite a lot in Middle America during the late 90s and early 00s. It's sort of a haunted house created by a church, often done in the church. Each room features a different sin, a different way to go to hell. The final rooms are a depiction of hell.
Les Freres decided to get a Hell House kit to do some research on what a real Hell House was. They examined the kit and realized that they didn't really need to embroider on it very much at all, it was plenty screwy all on its own, in its original state.
This sounded right up my alley. I got a group of friends (Karen, Jere, Dale, and my new boyfriend Richard) to go with me. The most memorable room was set up like a high school classroom. We all sat at desks and one of the "boys" in the class got up in front of us, pulled a gun out of his backpack, and started "shooting" people. It was startling.
We'd been through about four or five rooms and Dale turned to be and said, "Don't look now, but David Bowie is standing next to you." We had one of those moments when we were leaving the show - - he smiled at me in a way that said, "Yes, I know. I'm David Bowie. Thank you for not talking with me."
I don't know when this was, maybe sometime around 2008. I was walking home from work and on Park Avenue, somewhere around 64th Street, there was Kitty Carlisle, wearing a lime green suit, looking gorgeous but a little lost. I walked up to her.
ME: Well hello, Mrs. Hart!
KITTY: Hello there!
ME: What a treat to see you. I saw you onstage last year, with the Lost Musicals group.
ME: Yes, it was a tribute to Kaufman and Hart and you sang "September Song." You were amazing.
KITTY: Oh YES.
ME: Anyway, it was such a pleasure meeting you.
KITTY: Yes, a pleasure to meet you, too.
It occurred to me after I walked away that I should have hailed her a cab! And maybe she would have invited me to join her in the cab and we would have talked for another five or ten minutes.
This was sometime around 2003 or 2004. I hadn't been working at MSKCC very long. I have to preface this story by talking about the elevator.
The main elevator lobby has six elevators. They all go to every floor except for an express elevator, which goes straight up to 16 and up from there. On this particular day I was going up to the 20th floor to pick up something from the Physician in Chief. There were two women in the elevator. Clearly they were going to the VIP floor, 19. I knew we would be uninterrupted for the next two minutes so I said:
ME: Excuse me, are you Phoebe Cates?
PHOEBE: Yes, I am.
ME: I am such a huge fan of *The Anniversary Party.* Such a wonderful movie and you're the best thing in it.
PHOEBE: Wow, that is so kind of you. I'll tell Jennifer you said that.
HER FRIEND: By the way, my name is Susan.
ME: Well hello, Susan, it's very nice to meet you.
SUSAN: Nice to meet you, too. I love Phoebe but sometimes it's a drag being her friend.
SUSAN: Everyone wants to talk with Phoebe and gush all over her but no one pays any attention to me.
ME: That's unforgivable. I'll say this: you're wearing a gorgeous blouse.
SUSAN: Well thank you!
ME: That's worth a little something.
SUSAN: That's worth a lot!
PHOEBE: Have a good day, it was so nice to meet you.
This is the golden moment with a celebrity - - I'm sure plenty of men my age talk about how they were obsessed with her as a teenager, with her topless moment in *Fast Times at Ridgemont High.* Of course that wasn't the case with me but I scored major points by referencing a little-seen indie movie she did in 2001, written and directed by Jennifer Jason Leigh and Alan Cumming. It's not a great movie but she was amazing in it, in her brief scene.
January 2019. This is from my review for *The Ferryman:*
I saw *The Ferryman* on Broadway on 1/3/19. It’s a new play by Jez Butterworth, come on over from London, directed by Sam Mendes. I had the most delightful celebrity interaction before the show. I went to a pizza joint on 46th and 8th, ordered my white broccoli slice, and waited at the end of the counter to pay for it. I was standing next to a beautiful, tiny woman with gorgeous white, curly hair.
ME: Excuse me, are you Fionnula Flanagan?
HER: I am Fionnula Flanagan.
ME: I’m seeing your play tonight!
HER: I hope you enjoy it.
And then we were both silent, waiting for the cashier to deliver our slices. She paid for hers first, and said, again, “I hope you enjoy the play.” It was so charming. Of course I was tempted to take a selfie, but it would have broken the spell.
Sometime around 2012, maybe a little after. I was on the downtown F train platform at 63rd Street. I wanted to be at the end of the platform, that was more handy for where I was getting off (my husband calls his "pre-walking"). I had to pass well over a hundred people waiting for the train and who was standing there but Mamie Gummer. She was reading The New Yorker. I caught her attention.
ME: Hey, Mamie.
MAMIE: [looks up, smiles] Yes?
ME: You were amazing in *Mr. Marmalade.*
MAMIE: Oh wow, thank you so much!
Again, a golden moment. *Mr. Marmalade* was a little-seen off Broadway play she had done at least five years before, maybe seven or eight years. I'm sure lots of people, if they know her at all, tell her what a fan they are of her mother (Meryl Streep). I brought up something that involved only Mamie, and something rather obscure. Best of all, I never stopped walking. Say what you want to say and keep moving.
Sometime around 2017. I was walking home from work, walking east on 62nd Street, approaching the east edge of Central Park, and who was walking towards me but the divine Tim Gunn.
ME: Good evening, Mr. Gunn.
TIM: Hello, how are you.
There was no question mark at the end of that sentence. He was a bit gruff but still completely adorable.
December 2009. This is a sighting and not an interaction, but it was done at such close range and was so fascinating I want to include it. Cate Blanchett came to the Brooklyn Academy of Music in November of 2009 with the Sydney Theatre Company in a production of *A Streetcar Named Desire* directed by Liv Ullmann. Richard and I got tickets for the two of us plus our friends Liz and Tom. The show was on a Sunday afternoon and we met for brunch before at Berlyn, a German restaurant across the street from the theater.
Who walked into the restaurant but Hugh Jackman, one of the producers of the production. He was with a friend and they spent a few minutes deciding what table they should sit at and which seat he should use, all calibrated to minimize him being recognized and hassled by people.
We saw him in the lobby during intermission. He was with a group of five or six friends. Richard noticed Hugh noticing two teenage girls looking at him, giggling, and pointing. He repositioned himself in his circle of friends so he was standing with his back to these girls, so if they were going to approach him, they'd have to grab his shoulder and turn him around to get his attention. Which they didn't do.
June 2018. Glenda Jackson came to Broadway in a production of Edward Albee's brilliant play *Three Tall Women.* One morning I stopped at Food Emporium on the Upper East Side on my way to work to buy a case of Tab for my boss and who was there in line ahead of me but Glenda Jackson. I said to her, "Excuse me, Miss Jackson. I saw you in *Three Tall Women* a few weeks ago and you were amazing." She said, "Thank you." And her tone of voice was so completely wiped of warmth, and no ghost of a smile on her face - - everything about her said, "You've said what you needed to say. Move on. There will be no selfie."
December 2022. I work at Tiffany at 23rd and 5th but still go to my beloved barbershop, Elite Barbers at 63rd and Lex. It was on my way to work at MSKCC and isn't on the way to anything anymore but hey, you find a good barber, you don't give him up. And Dan is a marvelous barber.
I had seen Spike Lee on the street a few times over the years, he must live in that neighborhood. One evening in December 2022 I was getting my hair cut. I arrived, said hello to Dan, and went over to hang up my coat. Who was there, hanging up his coat, but Spike Lee. I saw it was him when he turned around. I lit up and said, "Well hello there!" He said, with a smirk, "Hi." He went back to his barber and that was the end of the interaction.
I had this exchange with Dan when I saw paying:
ME: What a thrill to see Spike Lee here.
DAN: He comes here all the time. He likes it that no one bothers him.
YO YO MA
Sometime around 1997. This is a departure from the other stories, which were all a surprise. This one was planned.
This was back when I was living in Madison, Wisconsin. I was visiting my parents one weekend and my mom and I were driving around and listening to Wisconsin Public Radio. They were playing Yo Yo Ma playing one of the Bach cello suites, a recording he had recently released. The DJ mentioned that Ma's concert at the Wisconsin Union Theater was coming up in a couple of weeks but it was too late to get tickets, it had been sold out for a while.
MOM: Are you going to that concert?
ME: Yes, I am.
MOM: You must have gotten your ticket a long time ago.
ME: I don't have a ticket.
MOM: How can you go to the concert when you don't have a ticket?
ME: I'm turning pages.
She nearly drove off the road.
MOM: This is what's going to happen. You're buying a copy of this CD. You're getting Yo Yo Ma to sign it and you're giving it to your brother Patrick for his birthday.
Patrick is a cellist, so this would have special meaning for him.
I was the official page turner of the Wisconsin Union Theater so it was really not such a big deal that I was turning pages for that concert, but Yo Yo Ma, that is a big deal indeed. I showed up at my usual time and had my pre-concert conversation with the pianist, a lovely little English woman named Kathryn Scott. We looked through the music and we were all set.
She brought me to meet Ma. He was finishing with someone who was asking for his autograph. She introduced me as her page turner and he shook my hand warmly and thanked me for helping out. I have to say that he is without a doubt the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life. Yes, he's physically very handsome but more than that, he was surrounded by this aura of warmth, beauty, and goodness. I'd never seen anything like it.
ME: Could I ask you to autograph something?
MA: I'd be happy to.
I handed him the Bach cello suites CD set.
MA: Oh thank you for buying this.
ME: This is for my brother Patrick, for his birthday. He's also a cellist, he's a big fan.
Any other celebrity would simply sign their name and be done with it. A generous celebrity would write, "To Patrick," and sign their name. An usually generous celebrity would write, "To Patrick, happy birthday," and sign their name. Ma did so much more. He wrote "To Patrick," and drew a bass clef and notated the first few bars of "Happy Birthday." And he signed his name.
Sometime in the late 90s. My friend Christina was in NY from Wisconsin singing some auditions. She and I met for coffee at Le Pain Quotidien one afternoon. This is a place that has your typical small tables but also big communal tables. We sat at a communal table. Good thing!
CHRISTINA: This is my fourth trip to New York. And I have never had a celebrity sighting. I won't stand for this anymore. I need to have a celebrity sighting on this trip, it is not negotiable.
ME: [quietly] Well don't look now, but Frances McDormand is sitting right next to you.
February 2018. This is from my review of *Miles For Mary:*
One of the highlights of the evening was an interaction we had with someone in the elevator before the play. There were about eight of us going up to the theater, and I spotted this guy when we first got in. Half of the passengers got out on 3M to use the bathroom, leaving just me, Barbara, Pam, and the guy. He was texting someone and I interrupted him.
ME: Excuse me, are you Joe Mantello?
JOE: Yes, I am.
ME: I'm really looking forward to *The Boys in the Band.*
JOE: Oh, thank you! We go into rehearsal in a couple weeks.
ME: Joe, this is my friend Barbara...
JOE: Hello, Barbara.
BARBARA: Hello, nice to meet you.
ME: ...and my friend Pam.
JOE: Hello, Pam.
PAM: Nice to meet you.
ME: And I'm Chris.
JOE: Thank you, Chris. I hope you enjoy the play. And I hope you enjoy *The Boys in the Band.*
ME: Thank you.
He was very handsome in person, and shorter than I would have guessed, he was probably about 5' 6" (but then celebrities are always shorter than you expect, right?). Barbara and Pam were eager to hear who he was. He started as an actor - - he was Louis in the original Broadway production of *Angels in America.* Then he became a director, winning Tonys for *Take Me Out* and *Assassins,* also directing *Glengarry Glen Ross,* *Pal Joey,* *I'll Eat You Last: A Chat With Sue Mengers,* and *Casa Valentina.* He's gone back to acting a little lately, he played the lead in *The Normal Heart* on Broadway and played one of the supporting roles in the HBO production, and he also played Tom in the recent revival of *The Glass Menagerie.* He's directing two plays on Broadway this spring, *The Boys in the Band* and *Three Tall Women.* He was very gracious, but then it makes sense - - I read on his Wikipedia page that he's from Rockford, IL.
June 2018. This was a double header! It was ten minutes after my interaction with Glenda Jackson. I had my short conversation with Miss Jackson, bought my case of Tab, and continued my walk to work. Somewhere around 65th and Lex I saw Dave Price, a local weatherman who I've always had a crush on.
I told him he was my second celebrity sighting that day, that I had just seen Glenda Jackson at the Food Emporium. He said, "She's much more impressive with me!" But I told him he was infinitely FRIENDLIER than her, which is worth a lot. I did take a selfie with him.
March 2020. Another guy on our local NBC channel. I asked if I could take a selfie with him and laughed and said, "Are you kidding me? I'm thrilled that you even know who I am. Of course you can take a selfie with me."
March 2004. Here's the story, written at the time:
My good friend Karen Miller dated this guy named Herb a few years ago. He works at the Performing Arts Library and he and a few other people put together a show about Original Cast Albums for Broadway shows, for their little exhibition space. He invited Karen and me to their preview opening, the night before it actually opened.
We had dinner and went to the show. I was wearing a brand new tie (black, blue, white, and gold plaid), black shirt, beige trousers, black belt and shoes - - I looked pretty damn sharp. So did Karen, but I don’t remember what she was wearing. I considered my ensemble very carefully that morning since I thought the place was likely to be crawling with gay men, owing to the subject matter of the show. I was right.
There was this tall, narrow drink of lemonade who caught my eye. He was 45-ish, edgy glasses, great smile. We smiled at each other a few times. Karen, Herb, and I were talking near the end of the night and Herb introduced me to this guy who produces Original Cast Recordings. He had produced the recording of *Thoroughly Modern Millie* just a few months before and had given a lot of materials to the exhibition. The four of us were talking and I saw that guy across the room (“across a crowded room,” if you like) and smiled at him. He, with a very determined step, walked right over to me, keeping eye contact the whole time. It simply took my breath away!
ME: Hello, I’m Chris Ryan.
DICK: Hi, I’m Dick Scanlan.
I introduced him to Karen, he already knew Herb and this other guy. The five of us talked for a bit and then it was time to leave. I told Dick it was a pleasure to meet him and Karen and I walked out.
KAREN: Gosh, was that exciting or what! He walked right across the room to you. I was sure he was going to ask you out on a date.
ME: Yeah, it was exciting.
KAREN: Dick Scanlan… That name sounds familiar to me.
ME: Hm, it doesn’t ring any bells with me. I’ll look him up on the internet when I get home and let you know what I come up with.
KAREN: Whoever he is, you gotta love an adult man who goes by Dick.
It turns out that he co-wrote the book and wrote the lyrics for the new songs for *Thoroughly Modern Millie,* which won the Tony for Best Musical this year! You should know it’s my favorite movie of all time, I’ve seen it 41 times, no exaggeration. It was the movie I watched when I was feeling blue in high school. I probably saw it 25 times just in those four years. It’s two and a half hours long, so I’ve spent a significant portion of my life watching this movie. When I heard it was being made into a Broadway musical I was skeptical. Then it won the Tony and I moved to New York and I felt I had to see it. I did, and I was thrilled, it’s every bit as good as the movie. I was especially pleased to see that in some ways it was faithful to the movie and in other ways it made considerable departures from it.
I looked up Dick in the Manhattan phone book and sure enough, there he was. I wrote him a note, that very night:
I met you at last night at the Performing Arts Library. I was talking with Herb and you came over and introduced yourself, not long before my friend Karen and I left. Your name sounded familiar so I looked you up on the internet when I got home - - I saw *Millie* in January and just loved it. Congratulations, you and your collaborators have made a really fabulous show.
I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’re interested, please give me a call or drop me an email.
Great to meet you,
[with the contact info]
I thought it was pretty likely that I’d never hear from him but Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained, right?
A few days later there was a message on my answering machine:
DICK: Hi Chris, this is Dick Scanlan. I wanted to let you know that I really appreciated your note. I’m not really sure what you’re asking - - if you’re asking me out on a date, I’m in a long-term relationship. If you’re just asking me to dinner, then I still have to say no, because I’m busy getting *Millie* ready for the national tour. Thanks again, I really appreciate your enthusiasm for the show. See you later. Bye.
What a classy guy! My best friend Byron suggested I drop him another note and suggest he and his boyfriend and I have dinner sometime but that felt a little pushy to me. What I’m really hoping is that he saved my note and filed it under Next Boyfriend. Those long-term relationships never really last.
June 2015. My best friend Karen, her partner Bruce, and I had tickets for The Elevator Repair Service's adaptation of *The Sound and the Fury* at the Public Theater. We had lunch before the show at a vegan restaurant nearby. There was an adorable little boy at the next table, probably about three years old. He was staring at us, talking a little bit, but clearly fascinated with us. He had a very firm piece of tofu in his hand and was munching on it incessantly. I said to Karen, "He is totally going to town on that tofu."
His mother, who we hadn't noticed at all, said, "Yeah, he's crazy for tofu. He'd eat about a pound of tofu every day if we let him." His mom was Alicia Silverstone! I'm not just a huge fan of the movie *Clueless,* I'm an admirer of the movie. I think, really and truly, that it's the best movie of the 90s. It knows exactly what it is, exactly what it's doing, and it nails every single moment. It's one of those rare movies that gets better every time you see it.
Of course I was tempted to tell her what a fan I am of her and *Clueless* but that would have ruined the moment. It was more special talking with her as the mother of her son, not as a movie star.
July 2012. This is from a special page on my site chronicling a visit from my dear friend Scott Seyforth, what I called "The Gayest Week Ever."
We still had a little time to waste, so we went to a little store that sells lots of Broadway tchotchkes. We walked through the door just as someone was walking out, and Scott said, “Is that Rip Taylor who just walked out of the store?” It was! We went back outside and talked with him, laughing riotously, for the next twenty minutes. You might know Rip Taylor, even if you don’t recognize the name.
He was at his peak in the 70s, making frequent appearances on *The Gong Show* and hosting *The $1.98 Beauty Show*, throwing confetti everywhere, wailing like a gay banshee.
SCOTT: What show are you going to see?
RIP: I’m not going to a show, I’m not feeling well…
ME: Hence the scarf?
RIP: My dear, I never go anywhere without a scarf. I’m going back to the hotel, I’m going to curl up in front of the television. What show are you going to?
SCOTT: We’re seeing *La Cage*.
RIP: Fabulous. Have you seen it?
ME: I have, I’m excited to see it again.
RIP: So you saw it earlier in the run?
RIP: With Daniel Davis?
RIP: [leaning forward, in a conspiratorial tone] I hear Robert Goulet is having trouble remembering his lines.
SCOTT and ME: [laugh heartily]
RIP: But I’m sure the rest of the cast is very helpful.
A cute guy walked by, saw us talking with Rip, and interrupted us.
HIM: Excuse me - - my brother and I saw you in Las Vegas in 1967.
RIP: You need to go back there.
It was unclear whether he meant back to Las Vegas, back to 1967, or both. We enlisted the guy to take pictures of Rip with Scott, Rip with me, and Rip with Scott and me. Scott says Rip grabbed his ass when the photo was being taken, which explains the surprised, amused, and frightened expression on his face. Rip cuddled up to me in a very affectionate and cozy manner, which made me laugh my head off. We also took a photo of Rip with the cute guy (Rip is sticking out his tongue at him, due to that Las Vegas ’67 remark) and a photo of Rip with two women walking by. Here are the photos of us with Rip:
On the train home that night, Scott said, “What was Rip doing out in that neighborhood at 7:30 PM on a show night, when he was feeling sick and just wanted to go back to the hotel? He was walking around wanting to be recognized, that’s what he was doing.”
September 2002. I went to Lincoln Plaza Cinemas, a wonderful art house multiplex that sadly closed for good a few years ago. I was seeing *8 Women,* a hilarious, delightful movie musical murder mystery starring eight French actresses: Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Emmanuelle Béart, Fanny Ardant, Virginie Ledoyen, Danielle Darrieux, Ludivine Sagnier, and Firmine Richard. I was waiting in line at the box office and who was standing in front of me but Marlo Thomas. She was there with a friend, a woman about the same age. I'm sure she could feel me boring a hole into her skull with my glare, so she turned around and looked up at me (she's five foot nothing) and gave me a smile that clearly said, "I know you're a huge fan of *That Girl* but please, don't talk with me. I'm out seeing a movie with my friend and don't want to be bothered. Thank you."