Musings In The Key Of Rey Rey

Meeting Angie

Tonight was a night for celebration. I had just wrapped up a particularly challenging payroll week and you, my sweet friend, had just been promoted to manager at the store where you worked. So tonight I wanted to treat you out to dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant, Il Fornaio.

We'd ordered and were now people watching and talking animatedly about Rizzoli and Isles to pass the time while waiting for our food and drinks to arrive.

"Really, Rey Rey?", I asked you incredulously, totally wrapped up in your work story about a customer you'd helped this morning who bore an uncanny resemblance to Maura Isles, right down to her clothes, mannerisms, and way of speaking.

"Oh yeah! If I closed my eyes, I could swear it was Maura", you said emphatically. "And, you'll appreciate this, because she was gesticulating a lot with her hands, I did notice she had very dainty fingers, just like Maura's", you finish, nodding your head for emphasis.

"Oh wow! You sure it wasn't Sasha?", I persisted.

"I'm sure because when I ran her credit card the name came up as Arizona Capshaw. And, while I was finishing up with her, her phone rang and I heard her say hello this is Arizona, and then, oh hey Callie."

"Oh that's awesome! Never a dull moment at your store, that's for sure". We chuckle lightheartedly, enjoying the easy flow of our conversation.

It's then that you spot one of your co-managers, Luz, dining with her family across the room.

"Oh! There's Luz!", you exclaim, your face brightening up instantly. "Hey, do you mind if I go over just to say a quick hello?"

"Of course not, hun. Go right ahead", I smile as I watch you leave. Then I hear the unmistakable Viber ping of a text from my sister so I busy myself responding to her.

You spend a few minutes over at Luz' table and it's clear that you adore this woman who has been like a mentor to you. It's obvious as well that Luz is fond of you by the way she affectionately touches your shoulder, like the way an older sister behaves to her younger sibling.

After a few minutes, you make your way back to our table, but not before swerving suddenly to your left, narrowly avoiding this careless kid who was running, and because of your sudden gesture, you accidentally smack right into ... Angie Harmon.

The Rizzoli and Isles star is a vision to behold in a beautiful emerald green dress punctuated by a striking purple necklace, and her signature cowboy boots , her lustrous raven hair woven into long, mermaid braids. She's even more breathtakingly beautiful in person, even with just a hint of makeup. You start to stammer out an apology but you're having trouble finding your words.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so, so sorry!", you utter over the frog in your throat.

You get a first hand glimpse of those Jane Rizzoli reflexes as Angie instinctively reaches out to steady you before you fall and hurt yourself.

"Oh I'm sorry, baby. Are you okay?", she asks you in that unmistakable Texas drawl.

"I ... I'm okay", you manage to say even though it's clear that you're completely mesmerized by her. "I didn't mean to smack into you, Miss Harmon".

"Oh please, call me Angie. Totally wasn't your fault, hun", she responds back. It's then that she notices your glasses. "I love those tortoise shell frames. They are tres chic!", she exclaims.

"Thank you", you say, your face flushing profusely.

You proceed to tell her that you're a huge fan of hers and of Sasha Alexander on Rizzoli and Isles and that it's because of the show that we (you point to me) met on Instagram and became close friends.

"Is that so?", Angie asks as she cranes her neck in my direction; my eyes bug out of my skull when I realize who you're talking to. You start gesturing wildly for me to come over to meet Angie, but I'm so flustered that I shake my head no.

"I think your friend's a bit shy. C'mon, let's go".

Angie puts her arm around your shoulders and you and her start walking to our table. Before I know it, you're both standing in front of me and I still haven't found my words; and my sister is still on the phone wondering what happened to me because I'd suddenly gone mute.

"Oh my G! It really IS you!" I exclaim excitedly. Angie flashes that iconic megawatt smile, clearly amused.

"Who? Who is it? Who is it??", my sister squawks through the phone. "You'll never guess who's standing in front of me. It's Jane Rizzoli herself, Angie Harmon!", I blurt out, my words tumbling over themselves.

I put my sister on the Viber cam and Angie waves warmly to her as they exchange quick pleasantries. "It was my sister who turned me onto Rizzoli and Isles", I confess, "And I'm so grateful for the show and for Instagram since our friendship blossomed due to our shared love for the show, for you, and for Sasha."

Angie, clearly emotional, clasps her hands to her heart. " Awww! You guys are gonna make me cry! I always like hearing from fans how the show brought them together, and yes, I loved playing Jane. What an awesome badass, huh?" she finishes, and it's clear that the character of Jane Clementine Rizzoli is one she will forever cherish.

"Angie, any chance of a reboot or a reunion?" you ask, and with a mischievous gleam in her eye, she responds "I can neither confirm nor deny the possibility of a reunion".

That "official" statement is met with you and I groaning in unison.

"However ", she continues with a cryptic smile, "Never say never. It is very possible that Sasha and I will work together again in the near future".

We squeal, excited at the prospect of seeing you and Sasha again onscreen.

"And", Angie goes on, this time in hushed tones, "Don't believe those persistent rumors that Sasha and I had a falling out or whatever; the truth is, our friendship has never been stronger and we shuttle back and forth between California and North Carolina to visit each other when our schedules permit".

"Oh those stupid rumors!", you respond, a bit upset. "We don't believe any of those anyway. Until we hear otherwise, from either you or Sasha, that's all they are. Rumors. Lazy talk."

"That's my girl!", Angie exclaims happily as you both exchange high fives. I know you're not washing that hand for a week.

We pose for a few quick selfies with her before she bids us goodbye to join her party. " It was really nice meeting y'all!", she drawls as she gives us each a big, warm hug. "Y'all have a fun night now!". We wave goodbye, and soon she's lost in the lively crowd.

We sit back down at our table, utterly speechless and gobsmacked at what just happened. "Oh my God! We just hung out with Angie Harmon!", you whisper excitedly "Jane Rizzoli herself!". I don't say a word. I can't because my brain needs a moment to process what just happened. All I can do is stare at you for a few moments with my mouth in a big "O" looking ridiculously like a surprised guppy.

Finally, I snap to my senses. " Holy mother of God! Did that just happen?!". I still can't believe it and I ask you to pinch me just to be sure I'm not dreaming and you happily oblige.

Our waiter arrives with the food and drinks and we proceed to enjoy our meal, still chattering excitedly about our chance encounter with Angie Harmon, blissfully unaware that a certain equally famous honey blonde had just entered the restaurant with her husband and teenaged son.