Secret identities, gouged-out eyeballs, names like Cordelia, Regan, Edgar and Edmond, strangulation, sword fights, bastard sons, a character named The Fool, sororicide, and more “whilsts,” “thees,” “eres,” and “betwixts” than you can shake a stick at. You know what it all means, don’t you? Why Shakespeare, my good friends! King Lear at the Globe Theatre to be specific. I know, I know, I might as well wear a t-shirt that says “London’s #1 Tourist!” But I had to go. It’s just something that needed to be done in London.
Life advice #88 – If you aren’t familiar with a Shakespeare play, for heaven’s sake, buy the Cliffsnotes, read Wikipedia, ask your mother, or call up your 10th grade English teacher for a synopsis before you go see it. This will avert spending 3 hours standing in the Yard thinking ridiculous notions such as:
“Wow. Those costumes have mesh holes at the armpits. What a great idea! We should totally incorporate that into today’s fashion.”
Or.
“Those pigeons are definitely gonna crap on my head. They keep flying over me and there’s no way I’m lucky enough to walk away from this without a huge green and white glob on my shoulder. What do I do if it
does happen? Do I ignore it? What if people look at me? Oh God! What if the
actors look at me?”
Or.
“I am SO sick of standing. £5 for a ticket is great, but 3+ hours standing in one place? I don’t think I can make it. There is only so much shifting back and forth I can do. Were they serious when they warned us beforehand that we couldn’t sit down?”
Shakespeare. Sure he’s a brilliant guy. But oh boy is he good at making me, not to mention those other ditzy-looking American tourists, feel unbelievably dumb for not being able to understand our own language. Having said/complained that, I really did have a great time; even if I
was dangerously close to being spat on by the actors who approached the edge of the stage.
One last thing. I would like to point out that my mother quite frequently reminds me of her favorite King Lear quote: “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.” I don’t believe she actually deems this true, though. That crazy, old hag will say anything.
The rich folks' seats. They actually weren't that plush; you could rent a cushion for £1 so that your backside wouldn't have to suffer the unforgiving wooden bench for hours. Maybe standing wasn't so bad.
Here is Eric sitting before the show. When I went back to stand next to him, I found that he had been singing to himself, securing himself as my favorite person in London.
After the show we walked along the river towards Tower Bridge. I expressed my fears about the Thames, large bodies of water, and large things in general. Buoys included. I pointed at these orange ones and told him that I found them to be quite petrifying. He told me I was being silly considering we could crush them. And then he did for me.
Tea at a cafe. Right before his iPhone rang, I was fiddling around with it and decided that maybe people who sell their souls to Apple for gadgets like that aren't so bad after all. I NEED ONE!!!!!!!
