I’m walking back from the Easter concert, decked out in my nattiest pinstripe suit, gig bag slung over my shoulder. I’m looking down as I walk, smiling to myself about the surprisingly smooth performance. I look up – just in time to catch the eye of Jane Krakowski, heading the other way down 9th. She smiles, demurely looks away. I float the rest of the way home, harboring a new celebrity crush.