This isn’t an Andy/Marius story, so I hope it’s okay to submit this!
I saw Les Mis twice on Jan. 31st, and I stage doored after both shows. Kyle was the last one out, and they began to remove the barricade after he got past me. I took a moment to light a cigarette, then began to try to get back to Grand Central by at least getting to the front of the Imperial. Some drunk guy turned the corner at Pergola Des Artistes and headed right for me, and Kyle kind of swooped in scared the guy off. We both laughed about how that guy was probably having a great night.
So then we both turned into the parking garage area next to the Imperial and I swore to him that I wasn’t following him, that I just had no idea where the train station was. (I have an iPod where Maps only works on WiFi and a cell phone with a maps app that doesn’t work.)
He asked me where I was going, and I said Grand Central. He was kind of confused and asked if I meant Penn or Port Authority, but I knew it was Grand Central. So he said he thought it was on the east side of Manhattan and that I had to hear that way, and he proceeded to point.
Then he backed up a bit and said, “Let me check to make sure.” And he pulled out his cell phone and looked up how to get to Grand Central for me, just so I wouldn’t get lost. I was so thankful for his help.
When I got to the train station, I tweeted to him that I had made it there okay and didn’t miss my train, to which he replied with “Goodie! Glad you got there safely!”
He didn’t have to stop to help me. When I swore to him that I wasn’t following him, he could have just wished me a nice night and kept walking. But he didn’t. He stopped and helped, and it was so nice of him. I think about that often, and it always makes me smile.