Close Encounters of the Jon Kind
New York City
A few months after I first
moved to New York, I was interning at the Tribeca Film Center, an office building
in which Jon's company (the name escapes me) has, or at the time, had an office.
Since I only worked there a few days a week, and he was just getting started
with The Daily Show at the time, I basically never saw him.
Then, one day, I hop into
the elevator, delivering files or something, and there're three people in
there with me -- Bo Goldman, the screenwriter of Scent of a Woman, Tony Goldwyn,
from Ghost, and, a head shorter than either of them, Jon Stewart. So, I try
to remain casual about it, let them have their conversation and all, but I've
been a fan of this guy (Jon, of course, the hell with the other two), for
like five, six years now.
But fortunately, I remained
Thus ends encounter number
one with our man, but it's the second one that really counts. Like I
said on the site, I used to deliver his (and other people's) mail, but on
one particular day, I noticed that he and his business partner (whose name
also escapes me) were in the office, so I wrangled it so I would be delivering
their mail (an interesting note and possible invasion of privacy -- not surprisingly,
Jon Stewart subscribes to The Onion). So, I go and deliver their mail, and
Jon's out in the hallway just outside his office, having a smoke. So, I hand
him his mail, and he says to me, "Ah, thank you, my friend." Now, I realize
that that's just a common courtesy and all, but my inner Cable Guy of course
is going nuts, thinking things like "I'm ... I'm your friend? You mean that?
Cool." I thankfully said nothing.
There was the possibility
that, later that year, I could have worked with their office as an intern,
but sadly, I'd accepted a job by then, so nothing came of it. But the moral
of the story is: Jon Stewart called me his friend.
Compiled by Melly.