I am mystified by the business of waiting for performers at the stage door.
Is the performer your friend? If so, then arrange to have drinks and dinner at a little boite far from the madding crowd. If they are not a friend, why do you want to chat with them? What do you have to say to them, and why do they have to listen? They have not, by choosing to be a performer, surrendered their right to their private time and their private lives. They did their job on stage and if you enjoyed the performance, you clapped. If you REALLY enjoyed the performance you clapped and stood up. If you REALLY REALLY enjoyed the performance, perhaps you made a "whoop" -ing sound as well. When they perform again, you will buy tickets and perhaps the cast recording. This is the measure of your devotion.
The notion that someone "loves" Joanna Gleason--without knowing her--is preposterous. You have, presumably, loved their interpretation of a playwright's words as directed by a director and in interaction with other performers. Her "nice"-ness seems irrelevant and not provable by the way she responds to a crowd of autograph hounds.
And what about those autographs anyway? What does that get you? Is it to add monetary value to your Playbill? And how is THAT Joanna Gleason's responsibility?
"They have never understood, and no reason that they should.
But if anybody could . . . " --SS