Missed Mindy Connections

Tags

ann arbor, barnes and noble, books, celebrities, club monaco, fail, george clooney, is everyone hanging out without me, jason segel, mindy kaling, missed connections, starbucks, the five year engagement, the ides of march, why not me

by Proma Khosla and Radhika Menon

JUNE 2011 | Pretty in Pink: Main St., Ann Arbor, MI

In the summer of 2011, we found out that a movie starring Jason Segel would be filmed on our college campus. It was one of our first brushes with celebrity – we were big fans of How I Met Your Mother and our campus had just hosted the elusive George Clooney for a movie shoot with Ides of March. But this wasn’t like Clooney’s shoot, a mere week in the middle of another unforgiving Michigan winter. This was #springinaa, our sophomore year spring term – a few months of minimal class and maximum time spent outside, watching movies, and taking in the campus.

On one fine spring day, Segel’s film shoot was scheduled between Main Street and Ashley. We clamored to the location after a particularly dry Communications Studies class, sweating in our summer dresses while the crew cleaned up fake snow from a previous scene. We saw the tell-tale equipment trucks, the boarded up windows of the fancy restaurant, the craft services table…but no one famous. The shoot was taking place indoors, with crew members popping in and out of the restaurant. One in particular caught our eye: our old friend ‘Gob Preen,’ a very cute and very well-groomed young man who we assumed was in the crew, but turned out to have a small role in the film.

As we admired ‘Gob Preen’ from afar (and sometimes aclose), the door of the restaurant opened. We wouldn’t have cared who it was, but this time, it was an Indian person in a pink top and high heels – it was you.

We gasped when we saw you. We clutched each other and sputtered sounds that resembled your name and few other words. We managed to grab our camera and take a photo of you walking away from us, but we were too stunned, too star-struck to mobilize. You didn’t notice us hyperventilating only feet away from you, and kept walking.

Moments later, we were kicking ourselves. We should have talked to you! We should have run up, even if there was tape barring us from meeting you. We should have told you what you mean to us, how much we admire you, and how wonderful of a surprise it was to see you here, in our town. We scrambled to our feet to do just that; we ran to where you had just been and looked for you, fruitlessly. You were gone.

You were Mindy Kaling.

MARCH 2014 | Clear Eyes, Full Bladders, Still Lost: Club Monaco in Flatiron District, New York NY.

Redemption is an amazing thing.

Or so we’ve heard.

Redemption was going to be a great thing. In March of 2014, redemption was to be ours. You announced that you were having a book signing at Club Monaco – an interesting choice, for sure, but no matter – we were going to meet you! Finally, after years of waiting, after endless regret…REDEMPTION.

We left work as early as we could. We got in line outside, prepared to brave the cold because in the end we would be greeted by the warmth of your smile and soul as you took us into your waiting arms. We got ourselves hot chocolate from a mildly irritated Starbucks employee, and we tolerated the chatter of everyone around us who think they get it (they don’t).

After several hours, what little magic there was was lost. The sun set, and the cold was bitter. We weren’t dressed for this – no one knows how to dress in March! Starbucks had started refusing us use of the restroom (though they would still let us buy hot drinks, thus creating an extremely unpleasant situation). But we were half a block from the door. We had come this far.

Alas, it was as far as we would come. A rep came outside and told us that they had reached capacity, that you were done signing for the night. She cut off the line and told us to leave.

At first, we were in shock. Then the shock turned quickly to anger, and then all of it turned to cold because we were so damn cold. We spoke to the employees of Club Monaco in outrage, as if a clothing store should have any idea how to run a book event. We even caught a glimpse of you, waving and getting into your car, but even that could not balm the pain of the evening. You drove away, leaving us freezing and sad, leaving our books unsigned.

You were Mindy Kaling.

SEPTEMBER 2015 | Barnes & NOPE: Union Square, New York NY

This was it. This was finally our chance.

You released your second book in September 2015. Eagerly, we pre-ordered our books on Amazon, excited to have the books in our mailbox the very day it released. With every book release comes a book tour, and we scoured the Internet day and night for your tour dates. Patiently we waited for New York dates to be announced, and we were in luck! You were doing a talk at the Upper East Side YMCA with Tina Fey…for $60. You know we don’t have $60! So we waited. We knew you’d have another event.

Seeking redemption (again), we heard about your book signing at Barnes & Noble Union Square. We set reminders in our phones, put time on our calendars. We canceled prior engagements for that day and planned how we would leave work early, line up, get wristbands, and fake our B&N purchases that were required for admission.

Five days before the event, as we started to stress about logistics, we received a text. It was a screenshot of your Instagram, which we follow anyway, of you holding up a sign that said “Sorry, NYC!” NYC. That’s us. You were apologizing to us because you had to cancel the event.

Words can scarcely describe the betrayal and abandonment. It wasn’t you whom we felt betrayed by, but the universe – the very thing that brought us to you and made our love seem more and more real was now actively trying to keep us apart. Would it be so catastrophically awesome if we met that the Universe wasn’t ready? Would it be so amazing that cosmic forces needed more time to prepare? We don’t care about cosmic forces. We are prepared. And we were thwarted, once again, in meeting you, our fave.

You are Mindy Kaling.