Went to see Fran Lebowitz at Benaroya Hall yesterday. I didn't know she was visiting Seattle until I perused the Seattle Symphony schedule on the program at the Jan Lisiecki concert. I have never bought a ticket to an event with greater celerity. Fran Lebowitz was in her element as always, but the public was laughing a bit too uproariously, even when it seemed like Fran wasn't trying to make a joke. The interviewer David Schmader was mostly all right, though he did at times fall into the trap of trying to appear as scintillating as his guest and falling miserably short. My friend Bailey had asked me earlier in the day, when I segued with a completely lack of subtlety into the fact that I was going to see Fran Lebowitz that evening, to ask her, if I got the chance, where she bought her glasses frames. There were several moments during the Q & A when I was tempted to raise my hand from my seat in a third-tier box, but I chickened out. As we filed out of the auditorium, it turned out Fran would do a book signing in the Grand Lobby, as they call it. I suppose it should have occurred to me that, whereas musical artists like Jan Lisiecki were wont to be secreted out of back exits so as to obviate awkward receptions with fans desirous of a picture or an autograph on their program, writers stood to benefit greatly from hanging back and signing a few books after events like this. Buying a copy of The Fran Lebowitz Reader was a no-brainer for me, despite the fact that I'd read the book a few years ago on my Kindle. I couldn't very well have her sign my Kindle edition. Besides, the price, both in money and time, was one that I was more than willing to pay for this rare brush with fame. I somehow ended up being last but two in line, and the Grand Lobby was almost empty except for a few members of the Benaroya Hall staff and Fran Lebowitz by the time I made it to the front of the line. I contrived to get the couple behind me to take a picture of me as Fran was signing my book so that proof of this meeting would be available to many generations of my kin.
I knew needed a snappy opening line, but at the same time it had to be unobtrusive, unlike David Schmader's occasional moments of inspiration. I was completely starstruck when I walked up to Fran, and I was worried that I would open my mouth and nothing would come out. But I managed to stay as composed as I've ever been and said, "Hi Fran, I've been a fan of yours for many years." "That's impossible," she returned without missing a beat. I giggled like a schoolgirl, because that was the reaction I'd been going for. I then went straight to business and said, "My friend Bailey wanted me to ask to you where you bought your glasses." Fran stayed composed, as if this wasn't a totally weird question for someone to ask her, and was very sweet and patient. She took off the glasses she was wearing, and said, "I have many pairs of glasses. These are not the same pair I was wearing on the stage. These are for near, those are for far." She took out another, almost identical pair from her breast pocket. "You asked where I bought these glasses, I assume you mean the frames." She tried reading the make on the arms of the glasses, but couldn't because they were her reading glasses. "Maybe I can read it," I said. Without hesitating, Fran handed me her glasses and said, "You're a lot younger than me, maybe you can." The make was RVS. I didn't know what that was. "I buy my glasses at this place on Thompson Street," she said, and she said something about a catalog in South Carolina.
Fran then went back to signing the book. "This is yourself?" she said, referring to a post-it with my name on it that I'd put in the book. "Yup," I replied. She wrote my name and then drew her signature book signing picture of herself underneath: A frowning face with a cigarette sticking out of its mouth and smoke rising from the cigarette. "And this is me." And underneath she wrote: Your pal, Fran Lebowitz. "Love it." I then made one final inspired request: "Can you also say Hi to Bailey in your message?" Fran promptly drew a speech bubble and wrote, "Hi Bailey." Fran has drawn a lot of frowny faces over her career, but this added a touch of uniqueness to mine. She won't remember me, of course, for she sees thousands of faces every single day. I do hope that in the brief time that we met I would have registered at the very least as someone who did not actively annoy her.
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