I was in a state of shock. My hero was 10 feet away. I couldn’t believe it! I was just 15 and a busboy, so I wasn’t permitted to serve customers just yet. But I did notice how everyone treated John differently, almost like royalty. As Billie Holiday sang “As Time Goes By” on the jukebox, I pondered fame. It all seemed magical, like skywriting.

I wanted to become an actor, too. I had no idea how anyone did such a thing, let alone become a star. I so wanted someone to look at me the way they looked at John Belushi — with admiration, fondness, respect and, dare I say, love. But I knew that was a pipe dream. He was hilarious, smart and bigger than life. I was awkward, painfully skinny and partially mute.

Several Sundays after that first appearance, Dad gave me my big chance to wait on John. I slipped on some sawdust and almost landed in his lap. My father shook his head and disappeared into the office with a tall glass of vodka. I knew he couldn’t bear to witness what would inevitably be a disaster.

After all, I had clumsily on purpose/by accident broken most of his most recent wedding gifts. He had just married the playwright Eve Ensler, who thankfully adopted me and literally saved my life. Eve saw something in me I didn’t even recognize in myself. She was the one who encouraged me to become an actor, and I ran with it.

Dad was relieved it was August, because I would be returned to my grandmother in Connecticut for the coming school year. I couldn’t quite blame him. My Dorothy Hamill hair, white Capezio dance shoes and red tuxedo jacket had long outstayed their welcome. I was clearly channeling David Bowie and the New York Dolls … desperately searching for an identity.