An important point to note for background knowledge is that this particular morning, I was very, very tired. I’m not a morning person at the best of times, but after a jam-packed first day touring Tokyo in 30-degree humidity, and a second day getting up at 230 AM for the fish market, this morning found me bleary-eyed and wishing I was back under my duvet. Which might explain why, while descending to our hotel lobby, I didn’t pay much attention to the other occupants in the elevator. I also didn’t pay attention when we exited and my boyfriend asked, ‘Who was that guy with the Japanese security guard?? Wearing a hat?!’ My response was something like ‘I don’t care mmhhmrgg’.
Later in the day, upon returning to our hotel lobby, we saw the same Japanese security guard waiting outside the men’s washroom. Mike said, ‘Hey look there he is again! I wonder who it is!’ and I replied, ‘Don’t know don’t care mmhhmrgg’. Sweating and determined to reach our air-conditioned room, my journalistic/stalker instincts failed me for a second time.
Fast forward to that evening. It’s approaching midnight, and Mike and I are grabbing a drink in the hotel lounge. I wander over to the elevators to pop up to my room, joining a rather large group of Americans entering the lift before me. They turn to wave goodnight to someone standing in the hall – I glance over and think hey, it’s the Japanese security guard! Perhaps they’ve befriended him! Only then do I hear an oddly recognisable voice bidding them farewell: ‘Alright, thanks guys!! Have a good night!’ As the doors are closing, I see that the voice comes with a pair of blue eyes that launched a thousand girlish fan-screams. Standing there waving, as the elevator door shuts in my face, is Chris Pine.
I make a half-hearted attempt to fumble with my iphone but it’s too late – I am locked in a moving box with the group of Americans. I assume they’re an unrelated posse who happened to be quicker on the uptake than I and got a few words in with Captain Kirk himself and are now going to bed. Absently scanning their faces, I have the fleeting thought that the Jewish-looking man with the curly brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses looks kind of like someone I’ve seen before, but impeded by my disbelief at having missed Chris Pine three times that day, the thought flails and dies.
It’s only when I get back to my room when the penny drops. The Star Trek cast is in town for the movie premiere, and I was just in an elevator with JJ Abrams.
The chance to trap him in an enclosed space and MAKE him explain the Lost finale is one that will most likely never come again.
All this to say, I’m seriously considering becoming a coffee drinker.