So, the other day, I was like, “Hi, Cynthia Nixon! This adorable person next to you, over whom I am leaning, must be your wife.”

And Cynthia Nixon was like, “We’re engaged but we haven’t gotten married yet. Hi, though!”

(Note: this is all true, except the parts that aren’t.)

Me: I remember us working together at the Very Important Talent Agency.

CN: That place must have been terrible for a sensitive, intelligent young woman like yourself.

Me: Thank you for feeling my pain, Cynthia. That means a lot. So what are you doing here at this random activist-y Jewish theater event at the Manhattan JCC, of all places?

CN: I like to do things outside my character profile.

Me: Me too! For example, I now run three miles three times a week. Isn’t that crazy? I refuse to invest in running gear, because I don’t want anyone to think I’m some kind of poser, but it still feels kind of amazing.

CN: While I starred in one of the most influential TV shows in the world as a straight, fashion-and-shoe-obsessed Manhattan lady, I left my boyfriend of fifteen years and the father of my children to move to Park Slope and become a lesbian.

Me: Okay, okay, you win. As a token of my appreciation, may I offer you this totebag? My best friend Charrow made it and she would be thrilled if I could tell her I gave it to you.

CN: Why, of course! Thank you. Oh my god, it’s adorable.

Me: So are you. You were my favorite part of Sex and the City, and the screenwriters for the film were totally punishing you for being the most normal and most happy.

CN: At least they didn’t make me shit myself.

Me: True, true. Well, let’s watch this play! Which will, incidentally, send the message that caring too much about handbags is deranged. I hope you won’t be offended.

CN: I will laugh as hard as anyone. I promise. For years, I’ve been laughing all the way to the bank.

Me: Oh my god, Cynthia. I heart you so much. And I’m so glad we (sort of) had this talk.