Riding in the Car With Kevin Kline
By Caroline Waxler
Almost two years ago when the issue of stem cell research was the new JonBenet before JonBenet 2.0 became the new Iraq, I went to an event to raise money for the cause. Kevin Kline, the main draw of the party, was the featured speaker. Stem cell research was his issue apparently; he’d been educating audiences about it everywhere he could.
The party, held in a loft in Murray Hill, was fun. Typical Manhattan political fundraiser. Lots of thirtysomethings looking for love and/or new jobs and/or new clients before hitting the next party of the night where they will look for love and/or new jobs and/or new clients.
But I digress. Back to Kevin Kline.
So, after Kevin gave his talk — very moving, by the way — my friend’s friend, who was thinking of starting a consulting business matching up celebs with causes, cornered him about potential future projects. They were talking for a while and the party began winding down. Not ready to call it a night — we were planning to go on to another party (political, too) on Central Park South — and went over to tell our friend that we were ready to split. Kevin was very nice and surprisingly offered to give us a ride uptown. A lift in Manhattan! From a celebrity! Yes, thank you.
KK, as I began calling him in my head, had parked his car in a lot around the corner. Ever the gentleman, he went down to get the car, as we stood on the sidewalk. And, just as we were feeling weird waiting for our celebrity chauffeur, up comes KK in his SUV. Throughout the ride, he was very charming, making small talk with us about our jobs and making self-deprecating comments about himself.
Since he was running late to his own dinner party at his apartment — I imagined Phoebe Cates, arms crossed, waiting for him in an apron—he asked politely if we didn’t mind getting off at Madison and 59th. Not at all.
And, off he zipped uptown.