We’d like to thank Freddi for sharing the following story.
At the pre-premiere of Bob Wilsons’s Peter Pan at the Berlin Ensemble theatre in the summer of 2013, I was sitting on pretty shitty seats way up in the gallery. The only cool thing it was that we were able to unashamedly gawk at Bill Murray (an old friend of Bob’s) who had a nice seat in the fifth row, center, and who we’d already spotted in the lobby while having drinks.
From the gallery we could see there were a couple of empty seats, almost next to Bill, that hadn’t been taken during the first half. Clever girls that we are, we went rushing down during the break to occupy the seats and start waiting for Mr. Murray to come back and sit down only two seats away, which he did. With my shyness, I couldn’t possibly be one of those people who come up to him, shake his hand, and tell him how they love his work. That’s not real interaction. That’s boring.
So even after he sat down, I didn’t say anything to him and had to watch him make small talk with another young woman in the row in front of him. I hated it. Nevertheless, I needed an entry. My friend had a sore throat and asked me if I had gum or a cough candy or something; I didn’t. Sure enough, a second later, Bill Murray pulled out a pack of Mentos! (Excellent!)
I stood and awkwardly leaned over the couple sitting between us. “Mr. Murray, do you have a Mentos for my friend? She has a really sore throat.” Without a word â€“ but with his signature melancholy, kind face â€“ he put his hand inside his coat pocket, pulled out a single-serving size mustard packet, and handed it to me. I burst out laughing and handed it to my friend. Then he got his pack of Mentos out and gave me one as well.
I think I just kind of stood there waiting, not knowing what else to do. I was so thrown, but must have thanked him and sat down again. After the performance, when we all got up to leave, I was way too shy again to talk to him again.