Because it can never be normal, it can never just be your run of the mill day, when D. and I make plans.

After a week of sweet anticipation, D. and met up on Saturday afternoon, at a bar we frequent on the outskirts of Times Square to head to the Tartan Day Parade.

For seven days, we had looked forward to the parade, which billed Sean Connery and Ewen MacGregor as participants. And yes, we both work in the entertainment business, so there are at least 10 easier ways we could have utilized to meet Ewen, but that's no fun. An industry party, a reading, an on set visit - it's all too basic. Give us a parade with 10,000 people and thousands of men in kilts and we have a mission.

So we met late, after 2PM and had a casual pre-game drink even though the parade had started. We walked down to 6th Ave after the drink and realized that we had grossly miscalculated. We could see scores of tartens all the way down 6th to Central Park we were on 49th. We began to run. D. wore sneakers, but I was wearing a skirt and boots - with a 4 inch heel. She took off like Prefontaine and I had no choice but to follow, bobbing and weaving like a couple of street urchins through the crowds of bystanders yelling and cheering for the Scots.

Three blocks into the run I heard someone from the crowd yell my full name - thay always yell my full name, why? - so I look to the left and I look to the right and I see the girl from my Marathon Party who got naked in my room with the state trooper. Egaaads, why me?? I studded to a halt, breathless, as she touched my hair and stated the gratuitous " Your hair looks great!" I barely got out "Sean...Connery?" and she said, oh yes, he passed and I said, "Ewen...MacGregor..." and she said she didn't know he was supposed to be there. D. at this point had stopped and looped back for me, so I looked at her and said breathlessly "Connery...ahead...no Ewen."

We looked at each other and took off again, barreling through the crowd as I yelled my goodbye's over my shoulder.

We cornered like we were on rails at 59th and 6th, seeing more and more groups of pipers marching, and we came to nearly dead stop at this point due to crowd congestion. D. looked hopelessly over her shoulder at me and then at the same time, we saw a break in the metal barriers they were using for crowd control.

Without thinking, she skirted the barrier and went through the opening and I followed her lead. We are now on the parade route. Police are ahead and behind us and I expect them to stop us and force to go back onto the sidewalks as we are clearly not a part of the parade - her in jeans and bomber jacket, me in a skirt, boots and my faux knee-length leather jacket.

For the moment no one stops us, so we start speed walking the route, looking as if we are trying to catch up with the marchers 20 feet ahead of us. At 59th and 7th, just as the Parade turns into Central Park and where the Parade onlooker crowd grows thickest, we close in on the distance and merge into a group of pipers. I think it was the Electricians Union from Massachusettes.

I finally take in our surroundings and see hundred of onlookers waving flags and hands and smiling at us, cheering for us, as we are now marching IN the Tartan Day Parade.

I sidewind to D.," Sweet Jesus, we are IN the Parade" and she starts to shake with laughter. I smile at the people waving at me, inwardly hysterically laughing and then realize, I'm not even SCOTTISH. For the love of God.

Now in the park and just above the Ice Skating rink, we can clearly see the Parade route and that the front of the Parade is far ahead - beyond Tavern on the Green. "We have to break," D. says. "we can cut down and head off the lead of the Parade at Tavern."

We deviate from the Parade route and cut through a crowd of onlookers, who appeared surprised to see marchers leaving their route, scurried down a rocky hill and hit a dusty trail. We started to run again, accidentally cutting though an informal soccer game as the players exclaimed, "Hey" and without looking back, began running uphill toward Tavern. We reached the top as I was gasping for air, my face red from the effort as we've now run-walked nearly 20 blocks, me in 4-inch boots, which are now covered in dust.

We crossed to Tavern as my friend 'Lil Dobe called to meet us. We ran into some people I know from the City Parks Dept. and asked them about Ewen but they hadn't heard that he was expected.

At this point, the Ewen search was history. We just marched in the first annual Tartan Parade led by Sean Connery, through New York City.

Does the rest of the weekend really matter? God, I hope someone we know saw us.

previous next