Sitting in my favourite cafe on College (most decadent of Chai/Cocoa Lattes EVER) I overheard a British woman talking with her blue-haired oldish woman friend....and she was telling a story about "the last time Allan was in town, and he was in between the two potter films - he had his haired dyed all of these fantastic colours......" I had to interrupt and ask for clarification:
In my school girl shy voice (wait, I was never a shy school girl)
"You aren't talking about Allan Rickman 'the actor' are you?" I had dropped down to a whisper by the time I reached the end of the sentence.
"Why, yes, yes we are"
"I have the world's biggest crush on Mr. Rickman"
The woman giggles and tells me that they are good friends and went to school together. Of course I am doing all that I can NOT to fall apart in an orgasmic goop all over the floor.
And she asks, "would you like to hear his voice message?"
I stare - dumb. Just - dumb.
My response (so stupid, so fucking stupid)
"no....no, really I couldn't impose, and plus I would look like a total goofie girl-child"
"Suit yourself" (apparently this healthy looking woman is used to people losing their minds over her acquaintances and has no time to twist my arm into doing what I totally want to do)
So, my chance to hear his voice on someone else's cell phone (which I could have gleaned for inflections of love/lust for his real girl-hero-love (read: ME). But, alas, I did get to talk to someone who more than likely has glanced upon the naked legs of Allan, has seen the drunken smile of Mr. R, has heard a sneeze explode from that handsome handsome nose. Yes, I sat beside someone who has sat beside the love of my love.
I am ready to face the day - what ever that includes (no matter how free it is of Rickman sightings). Fantastic.