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Meeting Amy Poehler Almost Killed Leslie Knope
Maybe celebrities don’t owe us anything, and that’s a good thing.
I grew up in Los Angeles, the city of (fallen) angels. A congregation of beautiful creatives who’ve all lost their wings. Some people soar, some crash, and others keep their feet firmly on the ground. My city has a micro-culture all its own.
Growing up I was always bumping into famous people. I’ve run into Britney Spears in a convenience store. My friend is the mailwoman for the Kardashians. Last week, Fred Armisen took my parking space. These brief, non-personal interactions became normal to me at an astoundingly young age.
The first time I met a celebrity, it was a surreal experience. I had left the dry heat of Los Angeles for the humid air of Washington D.C. to attend The United State of Women Summit. This was an event hosted by The White House during the Obama Administration. Amy would be sitting on a panel I was overseeing.
Riffling through logistics, I didn’t notice the newly auburn-haired maven enter the room. My business face was on, it was important that the one hour we had to discuss our topic went smoothly. Amy approached me as I was turning to face the door she just entered. The papers in my hand creased as my fingers contracted. Leslie Knope was looking directly at me…
