The day we met Emma Watson
Yes, THAT Emma Watson
Last Sunday was a pretty unremarkable day. At least, it would have been, apart from the small fact that we met Emma Watson.
The day began innocuously enough. My brother Robbie and sister-in-law Lucy were visiting me and Emilia for the weekend. We’d spent most of Saturday cooped up indoors playing Overcooked 2 (no regrets), so on Sunday morning we decided to head out for a coffee. We caught the bus into town and gave Rob and Lucy our usual “tourists’ guide to Oxford,” pointing out local landmarks such as Ghislaine Maxwell’s childhood home and the nightclub in which David Cameron (allegedly) did unspeakable things to a pig’s head.
When we arrived at our favourite coffee shop, we ordered our triple machi-frappu-latte-chinos and settled down to play Itchy Feet, the new card game Robbie and Lucy had recently bought.
It’s a fantastic game, and we were completely absorbed. So much so that, when a certain A-List celebrity appeared by our table, it took us a moment to register what was happening.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” interrupted Emma Watson, “but I just have to ask: what game are you playing? It looks so fun!”
In that moment, time stood still. Emilia audibly gasped.
“It’s called… Itchy Feet,” replied Robbie, cool as a cucumber. “The aim of the game is to collect enough cards/resources to buy a plane ticket to a foreign country - in this case, Finland.”
“And how does one get to Finland?” Emma asked.
I prayed for composure. I prayed for a witty reply. I prayed against a voice crack. I prayed for a delay in Jesus’s second coming. Heck I even chucked in a prayer for Harambe. Emma Watson was asking us how to get to Finland - anything was possible in that moment.
We did our best to explain the intricacies of this weird game but, before we knew it, the conversation was over. Emma wished us well and left the coffee shop, and we sat there in disbelief of what had just happened. The din of the cafe picked up again and the coffee machine spluttered back into action. “Was that the one who plays Hermione?” asked a clueless Swiss MBA student on the adjacent table. Cue belly-laughs all-round.
Now, to be fair, Emma wasn’t actually the first celebrity we’d ever met.
My brother once met Gus from Tracy Beaker in a nightclub in Cardiff, and I once saw David Beckham forced to talk about his passion for high-speed broadband at a corporate B2B telecoms event. But, those heavyweights aside, this was a first for all of us. And none of us had had a clue how to behave.
Lucy tried to gift Itchy Feet to Emma. Emilia asked for a photo and, although I’ve assured her many times that it wasn’t cringey, it was. Robbie and I were composed on the outside, but screaming on the inside. It took every ounce of our collective willpower not to shout “No Ron you can’t, there must be another way!” when Lucy played the winning move in our game.
To be honest, we still haven’t recovered. Emilia has told most of Oxford and we now refer to the year 2024 as “0 AE” (Anno Emma).
It’s a funny thing, meeting someone so successful. It makes you think: what have I ever done? But then you remember you’re surrounded by a loving family, playing a hilarious card game, and you think “actually, I’ve achieved quite a lot.”
Also, you realise that even mega celebrities are just normal people going about their muggle lives. And of course they are! What was I expecting?
Until next time,
Matt