I was working in Boston at a regular office job in the Financial District. It was all pretty standard; Anne Taylor clothes, high rise office building, and an adorable old Asian doorman named Tommy who was really aggressive about the rules, but barely spoke any English.
I usually went out of my way to be extra nice to him, since, in my experience, it can never hurt to have a friend with keys to a building. I think he liked me, though since our conversations rarely expanded past the weather, it was hard to tell.
One particular Thursday, I received an email from my boss telling me that the office would be closed that Friday since the building was getting shut down for the weekend, no other information provided. I was intrigued.
Naturally, I immediately went downstairs to pump my new friend for information, where I learned that Ryan Reynolds was going to be filming a scene for his new movie, R.I.P.D, and using our building.
Ryan freaking Reynolds.
Omigod. I was so excited I could barely breathe. Ryan Reynolds was in Boston. We were breathing the same air.
“Are you okay?” Tommy asked me in broken English, noting my flushed cheeks and widened eyes.
“I’m going to marry him.” I said, fanning myself. I wished they weren’t shutting the building down. I’d be there, front row and center.
“That’s nice.” Tommy said, and then went back to checking the sign-in book. I rolled my eyes. Friends might have been a bit of an overstatement.
I spent the entire weekend debating if I should just show up there and pretend I forgot the building was shut down. My mature side eventually won, and I dejectedly returned to work the following Monday.
“Morning, Tommy.” I called to him, his Q-tip head barely visible above the desk. His head popped up.
“I meet your fiancee!”
I did an abrupt about-face. What? His vocabulary wasn’t too good, so I repeated it back slower.
“Yes!” He said, bobbing his head up and down. “Very nice man, Ryan Reynolds? He come here for movie and I tell him I know his fiancee!” Tommy shook his head in disbelief. “He so confused, I don’t think he understood me.”
I was shell-shocked and walking towards him in slow motion.
“You told Ryan Reynolds that I was his fiancee?”
“No, silly.” Tommy said, laughing. “I no have to do that, he know who you are. I just tell him I know you!”
My head was reeling. Why would he do that? I thought back quickly, my brain working overtime, until it dawned on me.
“Tommy…” I said, trying not to smile. “I’m not actually going to marry Ryan Reynolds.”
Confusion creased his wrinkled features.
“But, you said…”
I couldn’t even let him finish before the image of an elderly Asian doorman trying to explain to a perplexed, A-list celebrity that the fiancee he never knew he had was working in this random office building in Boston had me crying with laughter.
You see, it’s the little things in life.