Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Waiting at the Stage Door for Brooke Shields
10.31: London stage version of Chicago ends. The Wife suggests going and hanging around Stage Door to meet Brooke Shields. Note odd gleam in his eyes.
10.37: Wife getting slightly hysterical at possibility of meeting Brooke.
10.39: Transpires Wife spent a good deal of formative years drawing pictures of Brooke. Apparently hundreds done. Have a disturbing peek into Wife's childhood.
10.41: Discuss whether bringing said pictures along would have enticed Brooke out any faster. Also discuss quantity of B2 pencils needed to do a decent job on her sizable eyebrows.
10.42: Discuss deforestation of Africa.
10.45: Wife deciding what page of programme Brooke should autograph (still no sighting). Compare and contrast Brooke's wig in photographs to somewhat inferior affair atop her head this evening. Posture that either a) someone had accidentally machine-washed it or b) a rat had got hold of it and that raggity mess was all they could get back.
10.49: Various chorus line leave, getting our hopes up.
10.50: Recall I spent some months of my childhood drawing many detailed pictures of Donna Summer. Neglect to mention the fact.
10.53: Wife nervous and agitated, supposing that if she'd have wanted to do autographs she would have come out by now. Have secretly agreed, but decide to wait her out for him.
10.54: Last orders in bar opposite.
10.58: Admire lovely exterior of theatre building. Wife also taken, particularly enjoying how all features have been smoothed away by time and inches and inches of paint. Compare and contrast with Sharon Stone in recently viewed 'Catwoman'.
11.01: Still no sign of Brooke. The Wife now embarrassed far beyond that time I got drunk and assured him you can gargle fondue at his works party, and then demonstrated. He is eager to go; last train is imminent.
11.04: Gayest chorus line boy flounces back to Stage Door to find it locked, showing pointedly that everyone else has gone home. We admire his heavily plucked eyebrows. Note stunning similarity to Nicole Kidman's eyebrows: pencil thin and forming an acute v-shape above the nose. Wife calls them The Devil's Eyebrows. Both postulate she puts them on using a protractor.
11.05: Discuss Julia Roberts' eyebrows. Postulate she puts those on with a pair of compasses.
11.07: All other cast members and most theatre staff have left. Wife tries to go, stating Brooke has probably slipped out of a side entrance. Point out several vehicles that could be hers: a waiting taxi, a Rolls-Royce and a rickshaw. We favour the latter.
11.12: Wife now convinced that Brooke doesn't want to do autographs and is waiting us out. He is now thoroughly embarrassed and implores me to leave. I wish to wait five more minutes, but he slopes off.
11.14: Resolve that, if ever famous myself in any way shape or form, to make myself as accessible to said imaginary fans as possible. Catch up with deflated boyfriend on The Strand.
11.21: Head home. Propose a daft scheme where I photoshop him into a camera-phone shot with her. He recommends that the shot is so ludicrous that people have to believe it's true and he did actually meet her.
So, my dear Wife, this is for you.