How I Met Anne Boleyn and Bumped into Jean Luc Picard

"When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford." -- Samuel Johnson (English biographer and writer, 1709-1784)

I am currently in the middle of writing an entry about my second job and the shenanigans that occur on a daily basis there, but because I really need something positive in my life right now, I am going to revisit some of my adventures in London from earlier this year.

Those of you who know me well know how much I love England and British culture. Those of you who don't know me well, be warned, I'm slightly obsessed.

Earlier this year in March an opportunity presented itself that was impossible to pass up. A class called Contemporary British Theatre was offered for the first time through my university's theatre department, and because I have had a Union Jack flying in my room since the age of 10, I jumped at this chance to finally travel across the pond.

The deal was, for $3,200 we'd get a two-way plane ticket to London with accommodations in the city for two weeks, have class in the morning, visit landmarks and museums in the afternoon, and see shows in the evening. Plus there was four days set aside for our own adventures in the city (or all of Europe if you were feeling especially adventurous).

<-----I wrote a little more than I intended in this post, so if you want to skip straight to the good part, scroll down until it says "Start Here."----->

Now I could spend two weeks writing about all the unbelievable things I did and the incredible places I visited because there was never, ever a dull moment, but to spare my wrists from developing carpal tunnel, and your eyes computer exhaustion, I'll just stick to one of my more memorable and quirky memories.

It was the second Thursday of the trip, the last day with the usual class/excursion/show schedule, and I knew that I wanted to see a show outside of our itinerary because there was so much great theatre that we weren't going to be seeing. A few other people had the same idea as me. Some wanted to see All New People which was written by and starring Zach Braff of Scrubs fame. Others were thinking of perhaps seeing She Stoops to Conquer which was practically the only show at the National Theatre we hadn't seen yet, and it was supposed to be hilarious and have this amazing, elaborate set. As I was frantically trying to decide what show I should stop by the Half-Price Ticket Booth for, I caught sight of a poster for After Miss Julie as we were leaving the Young Vic after our Thursday afternoon matinee of Bingo, starring Patrick Stewart. (Yes, I am going to keep name-dropping. So get used to it.) When I saw this poster for After Miss Julie, my jaw dropped all the way down to the cobblestone road, because staring at me with her feline-like, gorgeous eyes was Natalie Dormer.

If any of you have ever watched the tv show The Tudors you know that Natalie played the role of King Henry VIII's infamous second wife, Anne Boleyn. I was a huge fan of The Tudors when it was on tv, I've watched every episode, and Anne Boleyn was undoubtedly my favorite character. She was intelligent, smart, and sexy -- not to mention the fact that she convinced a King to turn an entire country upside-down in order to divorce his first wife in a time when divorce was unheard of! Her influence and cunning were truly unparalleled and I loved it.

So it was decided: After Miss Julie it would be! When I got back to the dormitory that evening, I got onto The Young Vic's website to see how much a ticket would cost me when I realized that the show had just opened for previews that very night. My heart sunk a little as my eyes read the production dates... how could I possibly snag a ticket to a show that had just started previews on the morning of it's second performance? The task seemed impossible, but I decided to accept the challenge nevertheless. I had to see Natalie. Just the thought of getting to see someone I admired so much performe live on stage inspired within me superhero-like determination.

The next morning, my alarm woke me up at 7am. I showered in the tiny, cramped shower that my roommate Dani and I shared together, got dressed, grabbed my scarf (because you didn't not wear a scarf in London), and left the IES Residence Hall in Chelsea for the nearest Tube station. The theatre box office didn't open until 10am, but I wasn't taking any chances in case there was a line of other crazed Natalie Dormer fans waiting outside in the cool, misty London morning for the opportunity to get tickets as well. I got off at Waterloo station around 9am and walked the four blocks to the theatre. To my surprise, and my delight, there wasn't a line outside. (Huzzah!) After scanning the area for possible ticket-buyers in disguise, I decided it was safe to enjoy a cup of coffee at Caffè Nero across the street. I hung around the shop for the next fifty minutes, watching anxiously as people walked past the box office across the street. If anyone even tired to form a line, I was prepared to run across that street and beat them with anything within arm's reach. I was like a wildcat stalking it's prey. I needed to see Natalie! And there was nothing that I was going to get in my way.

Finally, around 9:55 a woman came and unlocked the lobby. Like a moth to a flame, I was pulled to it's door  without question of consequence. As I walked into the building, I began to feel very nervous. What if there were no more tickets?! I could hardly open my mouth when the woman at the desk said good morning to me. I looked at her in horror for a few seconds before I found my words. I then explained to her that I was hoping there might still be tickets left for that evening's performance of After Miss Julie and how I would like to purchase one if there was any left.

"This evening?" She asked me, looking doubtful at her computer screen.

"Yes," I replied swallowing the lump in my throat. "This evening."

Her eyes looked up and down the screen. Silence. My palms began to sweat.

"Oh, it looks like you're in luck, we have just three left."

If I could have jumped on her desk and done a backflip off of it I would have, that's how ecstatic I was in that moment. Sold!

"I just take one, please," I replied coolly, trying to down play my overenthusiastic excitement.

The best part wasn't even that I'd managed to snag one of three remaining tickets, but that the price of that ticket was only £10 because I bought it day of the performance. I walked out of that box office feeling like a thief. In my mind I imagined myself twirling the corner of my imaginary moustache, laughing menacingly, and calling myself the God of Mischief à la Tom Hiddleston. (For a good laugh, check out this video:
http://vimeo.com/41505642)

<-----Start Here----->

I arrived at the theatre again that evening, picked up my ticket, and learned something even more thrilling about my little £10 snag: it was general seating. This, in layman's terms, means that you can sit where ever you like; first come, first serve. So, where do I sit? Front and center, of course! The space was a studio theatre, and I chose a comfy spot in the second row, watched as one of the actress made breakfast on stage as a pre-show performance while people filed into the theatre.

After the show began, and Natalie walked on stage I got chills. She was even more brilliant in person and so, so talented. I loved her.

When the show was over I was sure of only two things:

1) That After Miss Julie was undoubtedly my favorite show I'd seen in London.
2) That I needed to meet Natalie Dormer.

One of the great and awful things about The Young Vic is that there is only one exit: the front entrance. Which means that everyone, no matter who you are, celebrity or casual theatre-goer, has to exit through those doors. So as I left the building, I waited outside for Natalie to come out. Not wanting to appear like an obsessed fangirl or make it obvious that I was alone in big 'ol London Town, I pulled out my cell phone (with no service because I was on another continent after all) and had an imaginary conversation with my friend on the other end. Yep, that actually happened.

After 30 minutes of waiting, I was almost to the point where I thought she might never come out, or I had missed her in a crowd. People were constantly entering and exiting the building because there was a bar/restaurant inside (like many other theatres in London). I walked closer to the doors, continuing my imaginary conversation -- "Yes, I was thinking about taking the 11:05 train back to Sloane Square. Does that work for you?" -- and as I peered into them, a group of people exited out of them. In order to avoid them running into me, I took a step back only to have someone step into my path and bump into me.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," said a somewhat familiar male's voice as he put his hand on my shoulder. "My apologies."

When I turned around to see who it was, I was face to face with Patrick Stewart. Like the Patrick Stewart. Captain Jean Luc Picard, Patrick Stewart! The one I'd watched just a day before perform on stage in Bingo from an auditorium away, but here he was, touching my shoulder! It was so surreal. I couldn't believe it. I mumbled that it wasn't a problem, he smiled at me, and walked away down the street like it was no big deal. Away he went in his brown, corduroy blazer and flat cap. I almost fell over in shock.

As I was trying to recover from this unusual, extraordinary experience I took a step towards the outer wall to lean against it, but just as I did, out walked Natalie with her two co-stars. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest I go so nervous. She walked past me and I almost was too nervous to say anything, then before I could think the word "Natalie" escaped my lips. She turned around and looked at me.

"I was just wondering... could I possibly have your autograph?"

What happened next still makes me get excited just to talk about. She said yes, of course, because she is a wonderfully sweet woman. Then she asked me where I was from and listened as I told her the story about the Contemporary Theatre class and how we'd seen all these shows. She asked me questions about my experiences in London and if I'd felt like I learned anything from all the plays I'd seen. I told her that I felt like I really had learned a lot and that I was very delighted to met her. She asked what my name was and told me that she heard there was a good theatre base in Chicago, which I confirmed, and she said she was very delighted that I enjoyed the show.

After our conversation, she signed my program with a thank you message, and walked down the street with the other two cast members... in the same direction that I was headed. To avoid looking like a stalker and following them down the road, I hung back by the theatre and waited for them to be out of eyesight. After a minute or two, I left as well, feeling very satisfied with my last free day in London.