DISCLAIMER: These are my experiences, shared by me, as they happened to me. People in these true event(s), may not remember them in the same way. Certain facts can be agreed upon by all parties, nevertheless. I met Tim Curry, in New York, on August 28, 1987. Beyond that, I do not, in any way, suggest, hold or express that anyone else experienced this event in any paranormal, psychic or unusual way. That is how my experience of the event(s) happened, though.
MEETING THE MAN
By Angela Theresa Egic
- The psychic also said, “Tim Curry is just a breath away, just turn around and he will be there.”
- I understood, I would meet TC while I was still 23 years old and nearly 24 years old.
- Tim’s niece became ill and Tim brought her out to the lobby.
- It was apparent to me, the time was close at hand – time for Tim and me to come together again [after many lifetimes]. I knew three things my first visit with one of my most important [i]soul mates had to have:
- It was to be just Tim and me, alone – no other fans around.
- I wanted to leave a lasting impression on Tim, to remember me by. I’ll decided to write him a personal ad on the back of the Village Voice! It was original, different and I never heard about a fan doing that for a celebrity.
- I would leave a lasting, positive, impression on him so he’d never forget meeting me.
Why the Village Voice? It was 1987, we were all into the Village Voice weekly paper, at least, in New York. This was before the internet and texting; the Back Page was the 1980s version of texting/Facebook! You’d see notes on the VV Back Page:
Looking for the cute guy I saw on the F train at West 4th. Meet me at The Gap at 4:00pm.
My Dearest Tim . . . Read my lips! I’m glad we finally met. How about drinks, sometime? . . . Your Angel
Thus, as our day to meet approached, I went to the ‘Village Voice’ offices to pay for and place my ad, to TC. So, it would appear the Wednesday after we would meet. This way, I could tell him of my gift for him when I would meet him the end of the next week.
Then the day before I met him, which, as I predicted would be while I was still 23 years old and nearly 24 years old; it would occur [the meeting]. EXACTLY one month to the day before my September 28th birthday! I wrote him a thank you note . . . which read, in part:
Thank you for taking the time to talk to me and sign your autograph! This is the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten — to finally meet you! And be sure to check the ‘Village Voice’ this Wednesday, I left you a special message.
Then, work was over and I head over to 1515 Broadway on August 28, 1987. There I am standing in the third floor lobby of Minskoff Rehearsal Studios. Three seems to be a recurring number with Tim Curry and I.
The security guard observes me and said nothing. I suspect my appearance much like any other young actor coming to rehearse in these studios. I look at the ‘board’ seeing who is rehearsing and where.
“Me And My Girl”–Room 6
I act like I’ve found what I want and go into the inner lobby. Tim is there . . . like an angel calling in the mist; I hear his voice, singing . . .from just down the hall! My heart skips a few beats; I am weak in the knees, euphoric, dizzy. I try sitting, it’ not working.
The elderly British woman says to me, “You must be here to see Tim! He’ll be right out, luv!”
You all know the rest . . . she and the gentleman think I am TC’s daughter. They take their leave, I go to the pay phone [before the invention of cell phones] and call my best friend, Liz Bank, to quell my nerves or keep me from running screaming into the street.
With one ear I listen to Liz, while hearing Tim’s velvet-like singing and powerful speaking voice coming clearly down the hall. Then I hear goodbyes. I know Tim is on his way out! Liz insists on holding and begs me not to hang up. I lay the phone down on the little tray below the phone.
Quick footsteps approach the waiting area —the wall holds me up as butterflies explode inside my stomach. I think to myself, if I don’t talk now the opportunity is going to pass right by. Considering Tim’s rapid movement, I was not mistaken. I end up right in his path as I propel myself off the wall. Because I am in his way in the narrow area, he halts and smiles broadly, yet nervously.
I think he must also think I am his daughter and/or a teenage girl or both, as did Tim’s friends !
In a voice much too squeaky to be mine, I blurt out the first words that come to me. “Hello Mr. Curry, I’ve been waiting five years to meet you!”
He looks me up and down curiously, and says, “Yes?”
We stand together, in the middle of this room. I ask questions and he nods or says “Yeah.”
Not that I mind, still, I’d also like him to notice my face or know my eye color at some point! I finally get frustrated with his glances downward at my minimal assets [at the time]. Not sure if Tim is even listening to me, I go to where his eyes are and point up and say, “Tim, my eyes are up here!”
I laugh and think to myself “Did I say that out loud? [Pause] My God, I did!”
[i] I believe we can have several soul mates in one lifetime.