Post by MsPoet on Jan 5, 2003 1:21:18 GMT -5
POTTER GROUPIES
Reported by Paz Penn
On November 16, 2001, a little movie called "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" opened in theatres across the world. This reporter decided to focus on a particular group, centering on its self-proclaimed bibliophile Donna Jean Doe.
I spent the afternoon with Ms. Doe, who is known as much for her enthusiasm across ----------campuses as for her diminutive stature. She was busily constructing Harry Potter pins when I first was able to sit down and talk with her. She wore a Quidditch watch, capri jeans, a Gryffindor shirt, a handmade choker with Hedwig the owl, and black-rimmed, circular eyeglass frames (which she had actually spent years wearing over her green eyes), several parts of which made her appear eerily like a relative of the British tyke himself. "Are you going to see 'Harry Potter' alone?" I inquired.
"No. Charlotte, get in here!" and a statuesque teen came in, a HOGWARTS-emblazoned book in her hand. Ms. Doe introduced Charlotte as a fellow Toreadorable from last summer's hit Gypsy, after which ensued an altercation concerning who had been the finer dancer.
At the theatre another Toreadorable (identified as Bex) and Ms. Doe's mother, Mrs. Doe, finalized the group (or supposedly finalized the group; we'll see why in a moment).
While Charlotte and Mrs. Doe went up to Barnes&Noble, Ms. Doe pointed toward a fellow petite sparkly person and said, "Bex, is that Robin?" Bex: "Where?" "Right there." Apparently, the kind Mrs. Allen was evoking the Potter boy's Invisibility Cloak, because she was only 5 feet away and Bex was unable to see her. A few minutes later the 3 others arrived, including Sean, Robin's husband and yet another star of Gypsy. There were hugs all around. Ms. Doe, however, was ALSO making use of the Invisibility Cloak; Sean failed to see her for several moments despite her standing right in front of him! (When questioned, Ms. Doe confessed to this power, but stated that it is inardvertent 99.9% of the time, and is a "trifle disadvantageous" when walking in crowded malls).
This reporter must say that there was a flurry, indeed, of energy throughout the line, which for a 7:30 pm show consisted of many adults but for a small smattering of children. Several were sighted wearing official Hogwarts uniforms---ties and all. And Ms. Doe, who had had a DECAF mocha in the early afternoon, would periodically grab one of her friends, shake them, and scream, "THIS IS IT!!!"
Upon linear movement, she handed 3 tickets off and joyfully handed her own ticket to the ticket-taker-person at the door. Simultaneously, Mrs. Doe said, "I've done it. Donna, I've done it. I've dropped my ticket." Mrs. Doe had dropped her ticket in the trash can along with some trash. "Well, you're just going to have to find it," replied her daughter, and took off into the theatre after Charlotte.
As I was not seeing the movie myself (I am still trying to overcome a phobia of broomsticks), I was relieved to see Ms. Doe return to the concession area some minutes later. She went directly to the 4 in line and said to her mother, "Oh, so you got in." Mrs. Doe replied, "Yeah, with Sean's help." (As expected, Mrs. Doe has since removed the name DONNA from her Last Will and Testament, and replaced it with SEAN.)
After the movie (during which I scoured the bookstore for Unused Nail Polish: The Unspoken Waste and What To Do With It All, but was unable to find), I asked Ms. Doe to describe her experience in one word.
"Surreal," she said.
PAZ PENN, Reporting
Reported by Paz Penn
On November 16, 2001, a little movie called "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" opened in theatres across the world. This reporter decided to focus on a particular group, centering on its self-proclaimed bibliophile Donna Jean Doe.
I spent the afternoon with Ms. Doe, who is known as much for her enthusiasm across ----------campuses as for her diminutive stature. She was busily constructing Harry Potter pins when I first was able to sit down and talk with her. She wore a Quidditch watch, capri jeans, a Gryffindor shirt, a handmade choker with Hedwig the owl, and black-rimmed, circular eyeglass frames (which she had actually spent years wearing over her green eyes), several parts of which made her appear eerily like a relative of the British tyke himself. "Are you going to see 'Harry Potter' alone?" I inquired.
"No. Charlotte, get in here!" and a statuesque teen came in, a HOGWARTS-emblazoned book in her hand. Ms. Doe introduced Charlotte as a fellow Toreadorable from last summer's hit Gypsy, after which ensued an altercation concerning who had been the finer dancer.
At the theatre another Toreadorable (identified as Bex) and Ms. Doe's mother, Mrs. Doe, finalized the group (or supposedly finalized the group; we'll see why in a moment).
While Charlotte and Mrs. Doe went up to Barnes&Noble, Ms. Doe pointed toward a fellow petite sparkly person and said, "Bex, is that Robin?" Bex: "Where?" "Right there." Apparently, the kind Mrs. Allen was evoking the Potter boy's Invisibility Cloak, because she was only 5 feet away and Bex was unable to see her. A few minutes later the 3 others arrived, including Sean, Robin's husband and yet another star of Gypsy. There were hugs all around. Ms. Doe, however, was ALSO making use of the Invisibility Cloak; Sean failed to see her for several moments despite her standing right in front of him! (When questioned, Ms. Doe confessed to this power, but stated that it is inardvertent 99.9% of the time, and is a "trifle disadvantageous" when walking in crowded malls).
This reporter must say that there was a flurry, indeed, of energy throughout the line, which for a 7:30 pm show consisted of many adults but for a small smattering of children. Several were sighted wearing official Hogwarts uniforms---ties and all. And Ms. Doe, who had had a DECAF mocha in the early afternoon, would periodically grab one of her friends, shake them, and scream, "THIS IS IT!!!"
Upon linear movement, she handed 3 tickets off and joyfully handed her own ticket to the ticket-taker-person at the door. Simultaneously, Mrs. Doe said, "I've done it. Donna, I've done it. I've dropped my ticket." Mrs. Doe had dropped her ticket in the trash can along with some trash. "Well, you're just going to have to find it," replied her daughter, and took off into the theatre after Charlotte.
As I was not seeing the movie myself (I am still trying to overcome a phobia of broomsticks), I was relieved to see Ms. Doe return to the concession area some minutes later. She went directly to the 4 in line and said to her mother, "Oh, so you got in." Mrs. Doe replied, "Yeah, with Sean's help." (As expected, Mrs. Doe has since removed the name DONNA from her Last Will and Testament, and replaced it with SEAN.)
After the movie (during which I scoured the bookstore for Unused Nail Polish: The Unspoken Waste and What To Do With It All, but was unable to find), I asked Ms. Doe to describe her experience in one word.
"Surreal," she said.
PAZ PENN, Reporting
Christian, do you like our future?
(me blushing)....<g>...altho it's basically a true story! (Yes, I DID do that to my mother. :
LOL