For me, Josh Groban is one of those celebrities that’s on The List.

You know… The List… The list of celebrities that you’d willingly cheat on your partner with if that celebrity happened to saunter up to you and be all like, “Let’s blow this taco stand and go back to my place and get freaky!”

My list includes people like Johnny Depp as Hunter S. Thompson, Peter Noone in the year 1966, that chick Flo from the Progressive auto insurance commericals that looks like she should be serving you eggs and toast in a 1950s diner, and Josh Groban.

I’m pretty sure he’s on a lot of other ladies lists too because every show I’ve ever been to that he’s done has been full of women of all ages shrieking and swooning and yelling “I love you!” like hormone crazed freaks who you better bet will mobbing the stage door post show to catch a glimpse of Mr. Dreamy McGrobanpants much to the chagrin of anyone who’s trying to do a load out.

I do not do these things because one, he’s a human being and it’s not nice to objectify people who haven’t explicitly consented to it (yet, that’s essentially what I’m doing in this post… proof that I’m not a very nice person and I really like irony.) Two, crew members have families they want to go home to, so for godsakes… he’s not going to fuck you, so get out of the way of the damn door and let those hardworking people through.

But anyway…

Josh Groban had a little show tonight at The Allen Room at Jazz at Lincoln Center that happened to be broadcast to something like 500 movie theaters across the country. It also just so happens that the guy I share a bed with happens to work with increasing frequency at The Allen Room and you guessed it, he was on deck for this one.

There were a couple of points in the course of the set where some additional percussion instruments and a microphone were brought on to the stage, and my boyfriend was among the Mysterious Men in Black Clothing that brought said items onto the stage. When this would happen, my boyfriend would bend over while setting up the microphone giving all of us sitting in the right mezzanine a beautiful view of his cute little butt.

About the third time this happened, I thought to myself… “My god! Why can’t I stop looking at my boyfriend’s butt!? How is this possible?! JOSH GROBAN IS ON THE LIST!”

So, I thought about it for the duration of a train ride home, and realized that if I’m faced with the hypothetical choice of Josh Groban vs. my boyfriend’s butt and I choose my boyfriend’s butt with no hesitation whatsoever… things must be pretty damn amazing in my world right now. I’m a lucky girl.

P.S. Josh Groban’s new album comes out tomorrow… You should probably go buy it.