March 3, 2007
Close encounters with celebrities happen to everyone sooner or later, so what does one do when one finds oneself face to face with a star in a hotel elevator?
I really have no idea because historically I say the wrong thing.
One would think that at my age I would have figured out a way to handle such moments better than I have.
I am not talking about seeing a star across the street or in a Broadway show. I mean standing eye to eye with a star while in a closed, confined spot such as in an elevator.
Close encounters of the elevator kind!
What does one do indeed?
Each time it has happened to me I have completely blown the opportunity to say something interesting or to put the famous person at ease. The stars in question were probably hoping that an interloper into their personal space such as I would look straight ahead and not say a word anyway.
But no, I have to open mouth and insert foot, as the saying goes. Incredibly, I usually succeed at making what could be merely an awkward moment into an unbearably uncomfortable ordeal for both of us.
Like the time I rode an elevator down an eternity of floors with Ray Charles and his lady friend.
Oh my.
I was on a hotel elevator in San Antonio when the door opened on the downward trip and in walked, as big as you please, Ray Charles and friend.
Could I have said how much I admire him and how much I loved him in the movie “Blues Brothers”? Could I have managed a compliment or just a simple remark such as “good afternoon”?
Coulda, woulda, shoulda, but I did not.
What came out of my mouth instead was this brilliant and witty question, “So, are you who I think you are?”
To which he replied without missing a beat, “Gee, I don’t know. Who do you think I am?”
The door opened and he was gone, but not without an amused smile from his friend.
Webster’s defines the word “chagrin” as a feeling of vexation marked by disappointment or humiliation.
That about covers it for me.
My Aunt Esther handles such chance meetings much better than I.
Once she rode an elevator for several floors with Johnny Cash and June Carter. They “chewed the fat” like old friends, visited about all sorts of things and just had a grand old time on that elevator.
A friend saw Dennis Rodman in an elevator in Vegas, but who doesn’t see Rodman in Vegas. My friend got along just fine talking to him. Another talked to Shirley MacLaine in an elevator. No problem. Someone else I know encountered Tina Turner in a resort elevator on the way to the spa. This friend handled the unexpected meeting beautifully I am told.
What I cannot figure out for the life of me though is what to say or do in these darn elevators? It is as though my brain freezes.
Just the other day I was in a hotel elevator with a couple of big name politicians, and what did I do but shake their hands too long and too hard and blurt out, “So, are you staying at this hotel?”
Duh. I told you, my brain freezes.
Those poor fellows. I truly felt sorry for them.
Granted there is an unsettling effect when a celebrity appears suddenly, and you are forced by the situation to exchange pleasantries. Anyone can experience the awkwardness of such a close encounter and not know what to do.
I have to wonder what could possibly help we tongue-tied fools avoid such sticky, awkward elevator situations in the future?
Surely, there must be a method for handling close encounters of the elevator kind, but so far I have not discovered it.
There is only one solution left for me, and it has nothing to do with learning sparkling conversation. In the future, I will be taking the stairs. Hey, it is good for the heart.
