Getting locked out of the theatre — Big Fun!
How what was supposed to be a fun night seeing ‘Heathers the Musical’ went downhill very quickly…
In my many years as an avid theatre fan, I have seen a variety of big name shows: Kinky Boots, Phantom of the Opera and The Addams Family Musical to name a few. Heathers the Musical was no exception.
October 29th was the fateful day. Myself and my friend, a fellow musical enthusiast, made the arrangements — she was in charge of train tickets there and back (I’m hopeless with trains) and I was in charge of the theatre tickets. She lives in Canterbury whilst I’m Maidstone based, so the plan was simple; I would travel to Canterbury, drop my overnight bag off at hers, then we’d get the train, see the show, get the train back to Canterbury and stay at her place, ready for university the next day. It was fool proof. Or so we thought…
So, October 29th arrived, and it started out fine — I got ready and packed up my stuff, a bag with my overnight stuff and another bag with my purse and other trivial items, all set to leave on time, only to notice the weather outside was, in a word, foul. The sky was dark grey, and it was pouring of rain. I sighed and hauled my stuff out to my car. Then I set off.
What comes hand-in-hand with bad weather?
Bad traffic.
It seems that every single traffic light between Maidstone and Canterbury conspired that day and agreed to turn red the second before I was due to pass them. In all of my planning — the seats, the payment, the packing, the timing — the one thing I did not plan for was the amount of roadworks.
Lesson number one of theatre-going folks: plan ahead!
By the time I reached Canterbury, instead of on schedule, I was behind schedule. I parked my car at the Wincheap Park and Ride and as luck would have it I missed the bus that was parked at the station when I arrived. So I had to wait for the next one which, thankfully, was not too long. At this point it was chucking it down. I checked my phone and saw we had exactly fifteen minutes to get the train; not enough time to go to my friend’s place before the station. Luckily my friend was already waiting at the bus stop in town, but I felt bad that she was waiting whilst it was raining cats and dogs.
After what seemed like forever I reached the bus stop and found her. I explained why I was so late and told her we needed to get the train; my overnight bag would just have to come with us.
There we were, two very late musical theatre nerds, one looking very much like a donkey, laden with bags, charging down Canterbury high street towards Canterbury East. We got our tickets out as we reached the barrier. Train platform barriers have those little machines that tickets go in and then pop up out of right? All but one barrier were closed. My friend went first. Her ticket went through, popped up, gate opened, job done. My turn. The train pulled onto the platform. I quickly got my ticket out and shoved it in the machine. It went through. But it did not pop up. I looked for help but there was no one and my friend was the other side of the barrier. The doors of the train opened. Come on, I willed the little orange ticket. But it still didn’t come up. Had I been cartoon, at that exact moment a bead of sweat would’ve rolled down my forehead. At last someone appeared and opened up the machine to retrieve the ticket, opening the barrier. The moment I went through the barrier, the train pulled off. We watched in horror as it disappeared out of sight. Luckily being prepared paid off, as there was another train in half an hour or so that would get us there and we’d still be on time.
We got that train no problem and, with the use of trusty old google maps, found the Royal Theatre Haymarket. By this time my extra bag was feeling very heavy on my shoulder, so I checked it into the cloak room, and we went into the auditorium, just in time. The seats were pretty amazing, and the show blew us away — it was incredible! I have no complaints whatsoever.
Carrie Fletcher, leading lady, happens to be one of my idols, and the possibility of meeting her at stage door was all I could think about as we applauded at the end of the show. As the lights came back up my friend and I agreed to go to stage door, but I reminded her of my bag still in the cloakroom.
“We’ll go to stage door before a queue forms, and get it after, okay?”
It seemed a good plan.
So we found stage door, and after about ten to fifteen minutes of waiting, we met some of the cast who were all lovely and I met Carrie Fletcher (a tear may or may not have been shed). I was on such a high that nothing could bring me down. Almost nothing.
As the crowd dispersed, we noticed that the shutters of the theatre had been pulled down. I turned to my friend, panicked.
“It’s okay, I’ll ask that security guard.”
After a very helpful security guard took us to stage door and retrieved my red Carrie Fletcher-brand bag, we bid him goodbye and headed back to the station.
It was a chilly autumn evening, and we were tired, hungry and cold. But the train station was in sight, with the promise of home and a warm bed.
“What an eventful trip,” I joked as we walked through the entrance.
“Yeah, thank god we’re nearly home,” she replied, looking up at the board. Her face fell.
I followed her gaze.
We’d missed the train back to Canterbury.
Now, I’m not good with trains. I’m also prone to panicking. My friend was trying to keep calm because of this, but she was struggling.
I scanned the departures board desperately, then something caught my eye.
“Look! There’s a train to Maidstone East, we can phone my mum to pick us up, stay at mine, then get a train back to Canterbury tomorrow.”
And that’s exactly what we did.
Nearly two hours later we were at my house, my friend in a makeshift bed on the floor, sound asleep, the day’s events relaying in our dreams.
Moral of the story kids: if you’re going to the theatre — leave plenty of time, get your bag before stage door, and make sure you keep an eye on the time!
