I spent most of yesterday sitting at a table in a bar in central London and discussing Supernatural with a (thankfully) lovely bunch of ladies from the SFX forum, who I’ll be seeing again in a couple of weeks at the Asylum convention in Birmingham.
We didn’t know each other beforehand and there was a faint ‘blind date’ aspect to our meeting, up until somebody propped a picture of Jensen Ackles against a wine bottle so that new arrivals would spot it and know who we were. (And the waiter, too, who informed us that his ex-girlfriend loved the show, but neglected to mention whether he liked it himself.) Much wine was consumed (I’m tee-total, so I got hyper on coffee instead), many theories were aired (Ruby – good/bad?), spoilers were avoided and much glee was expressed at the prospect of getting together again for Asylum.
And, just in case a group of Supernatural fangirls taking over a corner of the building wasn’t curious enough, during the course of the day we were slowly surrounded by a parade of fellow punters who included a Geri Halliwell lookalike, an Amy Winehouse lookalike, three Mr Ts from The A-Team and an entire contigent of men dressed in classic Star Trek uniforms (some of them, may I say, had the bums to wear a Trek miniskirt, while some of them had more boobs under their tight Lycra tops than even Shatner could manage).
I have no idea what was going on in Leicester Square yesterday – a Britain’s Got Talent audition, perhaps? – but when six tipsy women loudly discussing whether Lucifer is going to escape from Hell and run riot across the Earth while the angels chase him down ISN’T the weirdest thing going on in a room, you know reality is getting a little warped…