There are certain moments in a girl’s life that she will remember forever: her first love, her first kiss, her wedding, landing her dream job, and of course, meeting her number one celebrity crush to end all crushes, Gary Oldman. I might not work for Vogue Paris and I’m not even engaged, but OMG I MET GARY OLDMAN YESTERDAY. Remember on Monday after I was unsuccessful at hunting him down over the weekend and I was all, “Wah, you guys, I don’t even know if I want to meet him!”? Yeah, well that was all a crock of shit because I met him and it was everything I thought it would be and more. I would meet him everyday if it were possible and wouldn’t guarantee I ended up with a restraining order, that’s how much fun it was.
Yesterday morning I had a follow up appointment with my doctor for that weird esophageal disorder I have. Everything’s cool, don’t worry, I only mentioned it because it is necessary background information to the actual story. I was in town in the morning instead of heading straight to work early, and walked past one of the yellow signs movie productions use to direct trucks to the set.
I know from my extensive
stalking sleuthing that the movie is called Paranoia and is operating under the full title Paranoia Productions LLC. Thanks to my supreme powers on the internet, I found out the filming location for yesterday and today was only a few blocks from my doctor’s office. After getting the all-clear, I hauled ass over to the building and sure enough, there were the trailers, marked with the actor’s character name to throw people off. Except it didn’t work for me because I am obsessed with Gary Oldman so of course I knew his character in this movie was named Nicholas Wyatt.
As I’m snapping a pic of his trailer door, a man in production gear comes up and asks, “You a fan?” UH. YEAH, you could say that. I show him the background on my cell phone, which happens to be a picture of Gary Oldman. The man, let’s call him Ted, introduces himself to me as Gary’s driver. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” I say. He chuckles and says, “No really, I am. And you just missed him, he was out here smoking a cigarette a few minutes ago. He just went in to film for the day.” WHAT? NO. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. Ted says I’m welcome to hang out, that they’ll break for lunch around 1 and then wrap at 6. “You might have to wait for an hour or so, but he’ll be out then.” I tell him I have to get to work (GODDAMN YOU, EMPLOYMENT). Ted is surprisingly kind, and after retelling this story to every single one of my coworkers and friends who would listen, we deduced it was because he was probably so excited to have someone stalking the set that wasn’t there for Miley Cyrus’ fiance. I give Ted my card and tell him I’ll be back after work. LIKE I WOULD MISS IT FOR THE WORLD.
Of course, for the rest of the day at work, I’m either repeating the above story or freaking out about all the things that could go wrong in the interim and bar me from actually meeting the only name on my Celebrity Free Pass List (side note: do you guys have one of those? Who’s on it? I’m always curious about other people’s lists and if they include celebrities 30 years their senior like me). The scenarios invented for how the night will pan out are wildly fantastic and all include ending up in his trailer. Conversely, the scenarios I’ve invented for how the universe will ruin this for me are equally as outrageous: subway car derailments, meteor showers, Speed coming true, my phone mysteriously dying as I’m about to snap a picture. But I manage to make it there alive, thanks to Maurin who was sweet enough to drive me early. I got there at 5pm, with a water bottle and mints and a fully charged phone, prepared to stand around for 2 hours, hoping for a glimpse of Gary Oldman.
I see Ted and he chuckles. “I’m early!” He nods, “Yeah you are.” “Where do you want me? Out of the way?” I ask, and he says to just go stand by his trailer and wait. Cool. I can do that. It’s like that is what I was put on this earth to do: stand at Gary Oldman’s trailer and wait. If job interviews ever asked about that sort of qualification, I would kill them with how impressive I am. “Excels at loitering and stalking, with an emphasis on creepy smiling.”
I barely have 5 minutes to settle in and look cool, casual, un-stalker-like, before it happens. He appears. He’s walking out of the building towards his trailer. He’s there. It’s him! It’s the most surreal feeling in the entire world. It’s him, and he’s right in front of me and it’s not making any sense. But he looks.
He sees me and points back and forth between us as if to say, “Are you here for me?” YES. YES, GARY OLDMAN, I AM HERE FOR YOU. I HAVE WAITED MY ENTIRE LIFE TO HAVE MY PURPOSE REALIZED.
I want to interject here and mention that despite the years and years I’ve spent dreaming about this moment, there is nothing that prepared me for actually meeting him. I’ve decided that I could never be married to him, because I’d never get over the shock of seeing him. He is so, so much more handsome in person than any picture I’ve seen. And his skin! His skin is flawless.
We meet and he says hi (adorable accent!) and shakes my hand (firm handshake!) and I tell him I’m a huge fan. He’s dressed in character, in a light gray suit with a silk-back vest and a bow-tie. I might have said something embarrassing, like announcing “MY BODY IS READY,” only I have no idea because I floated outside of myself at this point. We chatted and he said it was his first time in Philly but that he’s really enjoying it. I asked if he would take a picture with me, and he obliged. He ducks down next to me, puts his hand on my shoulder (MORE PHYSICAL CONTACT!) and smiles. In another world, I would have had the courage to invite him out to dinner or to the closest flat surface so he can ravage my willing body, but mostly I’m just so grateful for this much that I don’t want to push my luck.
Anybody know any good tattoo artists? Because I’m totally getting this picture inked onto my body somewhere.
My life’s dreams realized, I thanked him, we shook hands again, and then he went into his trailer. He was so genuinely nice and sweet and didn’t mind at all that I’d just creepy-fan-girl’d him. You know how sometimes celebrities can be total jerks and just ruin their entire appeal when you meet them in real life? That totally didn’t happen! He could not have been nicer or more obliging. It was the perfect length meeting because it was just long enough to confirm that YES, HE IS SERIOUSLY AMAZING AND GORGEOUS but not too long that it could have ruined the allure and the idea of him I’ve built up in my head over the past five years. I legitimately haven’t stopped shaking. At random points last night I would just stop and break out into hysterical laughter and shriek, “I actually met Gary Oldman!”
I called Lauren almost immediately and she talked me through the entire experience, detail for detail. It was so amazing to have that talk, and it just capped off the most amazing experience of my life to date perfectly. Lauren asked me how I was going to work off all the hyper energy pounding through me, and we both agreed that I had to go shopping. I had to buy something that I could use forever and forever be reminded of the Day I Met Gary Oldman. I skipped dizzily to Anthropologie and ended up with this gorgeous gray ombre top and these adorable sleep shorts. And I bought another Diptyque candle. I might have gone overboard, but I seriously had enough energy to motivate me to build and launch my own Mars Curiosity rover. That probably would have been more productive.
I might never have to blog or do anything ever again. I’ve accomplished everything I’d dreamed yesterday. Kids, the moral of the story is this: STALKING. IT PAYS OFF.