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How I Spoke To Tobias Menzies (Or: London: The Squee-ening)
This is. I still can't really even about this? But yeah. Okay. This will be massively disjointed, I should point out, because that's the only way I can think about it coherently. This is basically because every time I've thought about how to write this down it's started out making sense and just descended into my flailing at the nearest object and going HIS FAAAAAACE~ (or sometimes: HIS FUCKING FAAAAAACE~). So, um, I apologise in advance?
So the play finishes and I go outside the Donmar (where it was quite cold, really) despite the fact that the cessation of the constant state of anxiety I'd been in since I bought the ticket had resulted in my legs turning to the approximate consistency of jelly. I feel a bit awkward hanging about so I ring my Mum (despite low phone battery) to have a little flail about how great the play was and how perfect Tobias is etc etc.
Whilst I'm on the phone Mark Gatiss comes bounding out of the Donmar and off down the street. Not long after him comes Mackenzie Crook and then Aimee-Ffion Edwards, who head off in different directions. Then I see a whole bunch of folk coming down the stairs inside and assume that Tobias is amongst them (and I assume this, sad to say, mostly because I'm fairly certain I've spotted his ridiculous gangly legs) so I say goodbye to Mum and take to pacing about outside in an effort to contain the nervous energy.
I espy him at last, through the glass doors, and the first thing I think is: FUCK YOU SIR because he's wearing a trilby. The bastard. (Who wears hats?! I later opined to a friend. Uh, you? was the answer. *cough*) Wearing a trilby and with his jacket slung over his shoulder and the bastard just looked smooth and cool and, yeah, I could see how this was the guy who reportedly split up Kristin Scott-Thomas' marriage.
I digress.
I was across the road (where I'd been doing a passable impersonation of "someone who is waiting for a lift or something" whilst more of the cast poured out onto the street speaking to people who were obviously friends who'd come along to see the play) at that point so I moved over again, still pacing a bit, and could see Tobias signing something for someone inside. Shit, I thought, I should've stayed inside where it's significantly warmer. At this point I was still thinking I'd get him to sign my program or something so I had my program clutched a bit to my chest and pen tucked up my sleeve because that's how I roll, yo.
(Though, in all honesty, I wasn't sure what I was even going to say to him because I was still uncertain about whether or not I'd be able to beat my own anxiety enough to speak to him.)
Tobias finally comes outside and through some surge of energy I didn't even know I possessed I sort of maybe leap towards him? A little bit? (I should point, I did meet his eyes first, so it wasn't like a total surprise attack.)
Jen: Uh, hi, I just wanted to stop you and say that was really fantastic. (internal: Oh, Gods, what a trite opening)
Tobias: Oh, thank you.
Jen: Yeah. I'm - I'm quite a big fan, and I've come down from Newcastle, today, to see you (internal: WHAT ARE YOU SAYING YOU STALKER) in this and it was really great.
Tobias: Today? Really? What's your name?
Jen: (internal: WHY IS HE ASKING MY NAME?) Oh, it's Jen.
Tobias: Jen, nice to meet you. That's a long way to come for a play.
(And here's the part where, having been massively wrongfooted by him asking my name, my anxiety shut everything down and I went into survival mode. Which turned out to be an excellent thing.)
Jen: Well, it's two and half hours. *shrug*
Tobias: *smile* Well I hope it - lived up to expectations.
Jen: (internal: WHAT ARE YOU EVEN YOU SELF-EFFACING BASTARD) Oh, of course, it was brilliant, you were great.
[And somewhere in here I'm not sure how we got to this next bit, probably because my brain shorted out from the WHAT IS HAPPENING but I'm pretty sure there was some waffling about how superlative he was.
Tobias: *STROKES MY ARM WHAT THE HELL* Aww, thank you. (I kept on describing this as a pat to people but it really wasn't, it was a stroke from shoulder to elbow and HE INITIATED IT WHAT IS LIFE?)
And my recollection of words starts up again with:]
Tobias: So what do you do?
Jen: I *looks away, snorts* I work in a bingo hall.
Tobias: Oh, really? *smile, effective performance of someone finding that fact interesting* So do you like your theatre then?
Jen: I do, but I find it hard to get to it. Obviously coming down here is difficult and we don't get a huge amount of stuff up there.
Tobias: *nodding* You get touring productions?
Jen: Well, yeah, the RSC sends us something every year and, of course, Samuel West is directing a play for us up at the Playhouse. (internal: hi-fiving myself for getting Sam West into this conversation)
Tobias: *Tobias' patented wide-eyes of knowledge* Oh, yes, of course. (And here's another moment where I had to contain my flail because him knowing about Sam's play pleased me far too much.)
Jen: So it's not all bad.
Tobias: So do you try and get down here when you can?
Jen: Pretty much. I invade London every now and then, crash on friends' couches (internal: THAT IS A LIE, THEY ALWAYS OFFER YOU A BED) and the like.
*laughter is had by all*
Tobias: Well, you'll have to come to the next one. I don't know what it is yet - but you'll have to come.
Jen: Oh, of course. I mean I came to this one to see you (internal: WHY ARE YOU TELLING HIM THAT AGAIN YOU ARE SO CREEPY) after all, so yeah. I go back tomorrow night.
Tobias: *classic Tobias voice that I can't really describe but is wonderful* Now that's dedication! (And he moves away some to the side, sort of inviting the woman, crew maybe?, behind him into the conversation.)
Jen: *sort of shrugs and gives him a look which is probably hearteyes manifest like the creeper she apparently is*
Tobias: *lifts shoulders and breathes out* Well, we're going to go somewhere for a drink *manages to shrug in a way that indicates the various people milling about*
Jen: Oh, right, yes. Well, thank you for talking to me. (internal: THANK YOU FOR TALKING TO ME WHAT ARE WE 10 IS THIS A PLAYDATE OH MY GODS)
AND THEN I BOUNDED AWAY BECAUSE THAT IS APPARENTLY WHAT I DO WHEN I END CONVERSATIONS WITH PEOPLE LIKE TOBIAS MENZIES although on thinking about it I may have said goodnight first. IDK. Some of this is massively blurry.
Here's the thing, though, where I a) utterly failed as a quasi-Brit and b) continue to impress upon the world my inability to realise when people are flirting with me - because when I was running this down for my family on Wednesday night, mimicing actions and expressions (because that's something I can do with actors I've effectively studied too much), it became quite clear that he said 'We're going for a drink' in a manner that was invitation to me and, holy shitballs, he was actually kinda flirting with me for, like, half of the conversation.
Which is. What. What on earth and how the hell and good Gods when will I start being able to realise that less than 24 hours later? I can't even really say much in my defence because it should've been obvious from the part where he stroked my arm what he was doing. Because in retrospect that makes the way he kept looking me up and down make a hell of a lot more sense than: my legs were probably shaking so hard he thought I was going to fall over, which was my original theory.
And thus why it's taken me so long to write this up because the amount of evens I can't over this whole thing is just huge.
So note to self: go to the "next one", stage door, see if he recalls the strange woman from Newcastle that he sort of flirted with who effectively promised she'd come see the "next one".
In conclusion: TOBIAS JUST STOP HOW ARE YOU EVEN REAL I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT AND YOU WERE WEARING A HAT AND, as I said to my mother on the phone, HE COULDN'T BE MORE PERFECT FOR ME IF HE TRIED THE BASTARD.
I am ruined. Because this is the saddest thing of them all: before he was a face on a TV screen that I adored. Now he is a face that I have spoken to and that has seen my face and he is a real person that I am apparently starting to develop actual real person feelings for which are just so very unhealthy.
Actually, yes, I forgot to mention. I sort of booked it along the street, in what I thought was the opposite direction to Tobias & Co, because of reasons. By the time I got to the street corner I'd given in and pulled my phone out to call Mum, all aflail, and I looked over my shoulder to see them walking along not that far behind me, which made me turn blindly back in Covent Garden direction when it would've been better (I discovered the next day) to move towards Leicester Square, and it was this whole flaily mess of an extended thing.
And thus ends the tale of How Jen Had A Conversation With Tobias Menzies Which, On Reflection, Contained More Flirting Than She Realised. And, hey, those of you who're going to see the play? If you happen to see Messr. Menzies tell him I say hello. :D
Tomorrow, in a flocked entry because it involves Real!Jen, I will tell the story of How Jen Volunteered For a BBC TV Show And Might End Up On TV.
So the play finishes and I go outside the Donmar (where it was quite cold, really) despite the fact that the cessation of the constant state of anxiety I'd been in since I bought the ticket had resulted in my legs turning to the approximate consistency of jelly. I feel a bit awkward hanging about so I ring my Mum (despite low phone battery) to have a little flail about how great the play was and how perfect Tobias is etc etc.
Whilst I'm on the phone Mark Gatiss comes bounding out of the Donmar and off down the street. Not long after him comes Mackenzie Crook and then Aimee-Ffion Edwards, who head off in different directions. Then I see a whole bunch of folk coming down the stairs inside and assume that Tobias is amongst them (and I assume this, sad to say, mostly because I'm fairly certain I've spotted his ridiculous gangly legs) so I say goodbye to Mum and take to pacing about outside in an effort to contain the nervous energy.
I espy him at last, through the glass doors, and the first thing I think is: FUCK YOU SIR because he's wearing a trilby. The bastard. (Who wears hats?! I later opined to a friend. Uh, you? was the answer. *cough*) Wearing a trilby and with his jacket slung over his shoulder and the bastard just looked smooth and cool and, yeah, I could see how this was the guy who reportedly split up Kristin Scott-Thomas' marriage.
I digress.
I was across the road (where I'd been doing a passable impersonation of "someone who is waiting for a lift or something" whilst more of the cast poured out onto the street speaking to people who were obviously friends who'd come along to see the play) at that point so I moved over again, still pacing a bit, and could see Tobias signing something for someone inside. Shit, I thought, I should've stayed inside where it's significantly warmer. At this point I was still thinking I'd get him to sign my program or something so I had my program clutched a bit to my chest and pen tucked up my sleeve because that's how I roll, yo.
(Though, in all honesty, I wasn't sure what I was even going to say to him because I was still uncertain about whether or not I'd be able to beat my own anxiety enough to speak to him.)
Tobias finally comes outside and through some surge of energy I didn't even know I possessed I sort of maybe leap towards him? A little bit? (I should point, I did meet his eyes first, so it wasn't like a total surprise attack.)
Jen: Uh, hi, I just wanted to stop you and say that was really fantastic. (internal: Oh, Gods, what a trite opening)
Tobias: Oh, thank you.
Jen: Yeah. I'm - I'm quite a big fan, and I've come down from Newcastle, today, to see you (internal: WHAT ARE YOU SAYING YOU STALKER) in this and it was really great.
Tobias: Today? Really? What's your name?
Jen: (internal: WHY IS HE ASKING MY NAME?) Oh, it's Jen.
Tobias: Jen, nice to meet you. That's a long way to come for a play.
(And here's the part where, having been massively wrongfooted by him asking my name, my anxiety shut everything down and I went into survival mode. Which turned out to be an excellent thing.)
Jen: Well, it's two and half hours. *shrug*
Tobias: *smile* Well I hope it - lived up to expectations.
Jen: (internal: WHAT ARE YOU EVEN YOU SELF-EFFACING BASTARD) Oh, of course, it was brilliant, you were great.
[And somewhere in here I'm not sure how we got to this next bit, probably because my brain shorted out from the WHAT IS HAPPENING but I'm pretty sure there was some waffling about how superlative he was.
Tobias: *STROKES MY ARM WHAT THE HELL* Aww, thank you. (I kept on describing this as a pat to people but it really wasn't, it was a stroke from shoulder to elbow and HE INITIATED IT WHAT IS LIFE?)
And my recollection of words starts up again with:]
Tobias: So what do you do?
Jen: I *looks away, snorts* I work in a bingo hall.
Tobias: Oh, really? *smile, effective performance of someone finding that fact interesting* So do you like your theatre then?
Jen: I do, but I find it hard to get to it. Obviously coming down here is difficult and we don't get a huge amount of stuff up there.
Tobias: *nodding* You get touring productions?
Jen: Well, yeah, the RSC sends us something every year and, of course, Samuel West is directing a play for us up at the Playhouse. (internal: hi-fiving myself for getting Sam West into this conversation)
Tobias: *Tobias' patented wide-eyes of knowledge* Oh, yes, of course. (And here's another moment where I had to contain my flail because him knowing about Sam's play pleased me far too much.)
Jen: So it's not all bad.
Tobias: So do you try and get down here when you can?
Jen: Pretty much. I invade London every now and then, crash on friends' couches (internal: THAT IS A LIE, THEY ALWAYS OFFER YOU A BED) and the like.
*laughter is had by all*
Tobias: Well, you'll have to come to the next one. I don't know what it is yet - but you'll have to come.
Jen: Oh, of course. I mean I came to this one to see you (internal: WHY ARE YOU TELLING HIM THAT AGAIN YOU ARE SO CREEPY) after all, so yeah. I go back tomorrow night.
Tobias: *classic Tobias voice that I can't really describe but is wonderful* Now that's dedication! (And he moves away some to the side, sort of inviting the woman, crew maybe?, behind him into the conversation.)
Jen: *sort of shrugs and gives him a look which is probably hearteyes manifest like the creeper she apparently is*
Tobias: *lifts shoulders and breathes out* Well, we're going to go somewhere for a drink *manages to shrug in a way that indicates the various people milling about*
Jen: Oh, right, yes. Well, thank you for talking to me. (internal: THANK YOU FOR TALKING TO ME WHAT ARE WE 10 IS THIS A PLAYDATE OH MY GODS)
AND THEN I BOUNDED AWAY BECAUSE THAT IS APPARENTLY WHAT I DO WHEN I END CONVERSATIONS WITH PEOPLE LIKE TOBIAS MENZIES although on thinking about it I may have said goodnight first. IDK. Some of this is massively blurry.
Here's the thing, though, where I a) utterly failed as a quasi-Brit and b) continue to impress upon the world my inability to realise when people are flirting with me - because when I was running this down for my family on Wednesday night, mimicing actions and expressions (because that's something I can do with actors I've effectively studied too much), it became quite clear that he said 'We're going for a drink' in a manner that was invitation to me and, holy shitballs, he was actually kinda flirting with me for, like, half of the conversation.
Which is. What. What on earth and how the hell and good Gods when will I start being able to realise that less than 24 hours later? I can't even really say much in my defence because it should've been obvious from the part where he stroked my arm what he was doing. Because in retrospect that makes the way he kept looking me up and down make a hell of a lot more sense than: my legs were probably shaking so hard he thought I was going to fall over, which was my original theory.
And thus why it's taken me so long to write this up because the amount of evens I can't over this whole thing is just huge.
So note to self: go to the "next one", stage door, see if he recalls the strange woman from Newcastle that he sort of flirted with who effectively promised she'd come see the "next one".
In conclusion: TOBIAS JUST STOP HOW ARE YOU EVEN REAL I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT AND YOU WERE WEARING A HAT AND, as I said to my mother on the phone, HE COULDN'T BE MORE PERFECT FOR ME IF HE TRIED THE BASTARD.
I am ruined. Because this is the saddest thing of them all: before he was a face on a TV screen that I adored. Now he is a face that I have spoken to and that has seen my face and he is a real person that I am apparently starting to develop actual real person feelings for which are just so very unhealthy.
Actually, yes, I forgot to mention. I sort of booked it along the street, in what I thought was the opposite direction to Tobias & Co, because of reasons. By the time I got to the street corner I'd given in and pulled my phone out to call Mum, all aflail, and I looked over my shoulder to see them walking along not that far behind me, which made me turn blindly back in Covent Garden direction when it would've been better (I discovered the next day) to move towards Leicester Square, and it was this whole flaily mess of an extended thing.
And thus ends the tale of How Jen Had A Conversation With Tobias Menzies Which, On Reflection, Contained More Flirting Than She Realised. And, hey, those of you who're going to see the play? If you happen to see Messr. Menzies tell him I say hello. :D
Tomorrow, in a flocked entry because it involves Real!Jen, I will tell the story of How Jen Volunteered For a BBC TV Show And Might End Up On TV.