How Sionan Met Joe
Last year [1998] I went to London with my friend Sianna. We flew out of NYC on
the evening of Friday 13, and landed London early the next morning.
Joe's play "A Real Classy Affair" had been held over for an extra week, but I
still hadn't been able to get tickets. November 14 was it's last day.
We were both cranky when we got to the hotel, we took naps, took showers,
and headed out at about 4 PM, planning to go to the Royal Court anyway,
because you never know. I accosted the American at the ticket counter, who
said he'd about 80 ticket requests from people for the last show, and there
wasn't any. BUT, at 8 PM there would one last performance, and at 6:45
standing tickets went on sale. There were only 4, and the first 2 people in
the queue got 'em. "Where is the queue?" I inquired. No queue yet. "So," I
say," if stand over by the door for 2 hours and 15 minutes, I'll be the first
in the queue and therefore would be able to purchase 2 tickets?" Yup. "But
you gotta stand in the back of the theatre" - hence the name standing
tickets. I'd stand on one foot if it meant I could see the play. So, I told
Sianna - who had never been to London before - to go out and get some dinner
and look around on her own. I was queuing. And queue I did. A 14 year old
girl came in and was next, and nervously asked me how many tickets I wanted.
"Just 2." She was quite relieved, as she wanted the other 2. So time passed
by. 15 people got in the queue. 28 people showed up to get in the return
tickets line. (Some people cancel their tickets at the last minute, and they
can then be resold to people queuing for returns. I've gotten many play
tickets this way.) 6:45. Standing tickets are on sale. The guy told me they
were going to be 10 p. I'm thinking 10 pounds...cheap. Fine. The ticket
counter is surrounded...but not by me or the other girl who started the damn
queue in the first place! I had a panicky moment...do I have to play the
brash American and kick some ass to get tickets I have just rightfully earned
by standing in a goddamned line for over 2 hours?!?! As it turned out, no.
Mr. American Box Office Guy said "I believe she was first" and pointed at me.
And, noticing my 14 year queue mate was a tad shy, I spoke up and said "And
she was next." 2 people cursed at me. The others were noticeably
disappointed. (One of them made very poor use of lavender eye shadow.) "2
tickets, 20 p" says my box office buddy. So I hand him 2 tenners. "Do you
have just the coins?" he asked? "You mean 20 p as in pence?!?" "Yeah. 20 p."
"That's all?" "You have to STAND." He said "Your not getting a seat!"
So I paid 17 American cents for my ticket to see Joe Fiennes. I bought
Sianna's for her as a gift, it being her first time in London and all. I'm
that kind of girl.
And there were no return tickets. "Haven't been any the whole run." He
tells me.
So, my companion, my good mood, and I went downstairs to the bar and
spent the next hour on a big comfy couch drinking some fairly non descript
scotch. We placed our interval drinks orders and went up to see the play.
There was room to sit after all, as the Royal Court has bench like seats. A
lot of skinny people must have been there that night. Or, no one wanted to
sit next to Tom Stoppard. And Merchant. And Ivory. (Ismael and James)
So we watch the play, are mightily impressed, and talk about whether we
to try and meet Joe. We decide we'd get more drinks, something to eat, and
head back to the stage door area in about 40 minutes to see if he was still
there. So, that's what we did. There were about 3 or 4 obnoxious college
girls, the photographer Michael Riordan, and Sianna and myself. Joe had not
yet left. Everyone else had apparently, but not Joe.
So, we decide we'll stand in the cold and see how things will go. At this
point I decide to call my boyfriend back in Boston. I wanted to see if funky
cell phone I had worked, and I thought I'd let him know I was safe. It
worked, I talked to him for a few minutes, told him I had a good flight,
scored Joe tickets, and was presently being a stage door groupie. He laughed
at me, jokingly questioned Joe's manliness as opposed to his, and with a
private few words said in Punjabi (his first language) we rang off. Annoying
Girl #1 was listening to my conversation, and spoke Punjabi. (I can't make
this stuff up, trust me.) She wanted to know who I was talking to "My
boyfriend." "Is he a Sikh?" "Yes, he is." "Where is he?" "Boston." (I'm
really not trying to encourage conversation here) "Does he like Joe?" "He's
never seen his work, so he really can't say." "Isn't he upset you're here?"
"In London? Or trying to meet Joe?" "Both." "No. I didn't ask, but he hasn't
said, and don't think he'd mind. " This goes on, she wants to see his photo,
know his name, etc... I continue to be evasive, and she soon goes back to her
ranting about Joe. Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe. She wants to sneak back in the
theatre. She wants to try to do this, to do that.
Meanwhile, Michael Riordan, Mr. Whiny Photographer of the year (who, by
the way, photographs Joe WITHOUT his permission and then profits off the
photos) starts to whine to me (What am I-counselor to the rabid fans of Joe
Fiennes? Couldn't they have talked to one another and left me alone? My buzz
was wearing off for god's sake). Here he is, a grown, unattractive man,
literally sounding like he's going to cry, complaining to me "She's ruining
this for everybody! Joe will never come out! If he does she'll drive him
away." Now, I'm thinking - "you're old enough to be my father-get a grip! Go
whine over Donny Osmond or something but Shut Up!" But I don't say that. I
decide that annoying or not, Annoying Girl #1 is still more likable than this
guy, so I tell him to knock it off. She's excited, she's a bit high strung.
She's a fan and she's a young girl-cut her some slack. (Go home! Kick mom out
of the house for a few hours. Have a girl over! Sheesh!)
Luckily, Joe made the decision for me by finally, at long last, being the
last one out of the theatre through the front entrance. Looking like a deer
caught in headlights, he looked less than excited to see us, but seemed
resigned to the fact that he must. Annoying Girl #1 immediately rushes up to
Joe, says it's her birthday and can she have a kiss? He doesn't get a chance
to answer before she plants one right on his cheek. He looks like someone hit
him over the head with a very large dictionary. He's signing things,
flashbulbs are popping, and you know who kisses him AGAIN without
permission...(must have been trying to get one for her next birthday as
well.)
Finally the throng clears, and I walk up to Joe with my copy of the play,
and look right him and say "Will You? Please? " We hold eye contact for a few
seconds, he says "of course" , signs my book, hands it to me. I say "well
done". We lock eyes again, he says "thank you" and I turn and walk away.
According to Sianna, he watches me a bit. I was the only girl who didn't
physically attack him, he must have been intrigued.
Now, the fact that we had contact means this - I make eye contact when
speaking and so does he, apparently. The fact he watched me walk away means
that he wanted to look at the girl who acted normally. Nothing more I'm
afraid. Wouldn't know me if he fell over me today. (Please God...I've been good.
I eat all my vegetables...)
How does Joe look in real life? Like an average guy. On stage he has a
very commanding prescience (this was the fourth play I've seen him in, I
would know). On the street, he's normal. It's great.
This particular evening he was wearing a baseball hat, a black parka
snapped up to his neck, a long leather coat over that. A denim shirt tied
around his waist, jeans and sneakers. (New Balance. A brand I personally wear
and recommend.) In essence, pretty gosh darn dorky. I don't know what was up
with the 2 coats or the extra shirt. It was the last night of the show,
perhaps he had the extras in the dressing room and didn't feel like carrying
them home-so he wore them. It was cold, so the locals said (When you have get
up 30 minutes earlier to start your car so the ice thaws off of it and it
will move, and when you have 2 feet of snow to truck through and it's 8
degrees Fahrenheit with a wind chill of -20, then you can complain to me that
it's cold. If not, I don't want to hear it.) so perhaps he had a reason for
wearing 2 jackets.
He is tall, and very thin, but he still is handsome I just wanted to take
him home and cuddle him up.
And the eyes are quite deep. Very nice making eye contact with Joe. I'd
recommend it.
Right about now I was in a dilemma. Stay here and deal with this bunch of
jokers in order to see Joe, or take off and not bother. Or, I could barge in
and drag Joe out. I figure that's not my best bet...but I would get noticed
and Joe wouldn't forget me.
