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So here we are for a further derailment in my ridiculous life: setlock edition.
I confirm a returning cast member but I’ve kept it completely spoiler-free otherwise.
Passed the set on my way home and Rupert Graves was crossing the street diagonally before me; being all British and heinously polite I stopped so he could go first, causing him to meet my eyes as we shared a friendly smile which made my ickle fanboy knees go weak.
So weak that my entire atrophied, neuralgia-ridden leg went. Cabin Pressure all over again…absolutely mortifying.
I took myself off to the side and commenced awkward random stretching, only for one of the crew members to come over and correct my form – seems I’ve been doing it wrong for years. They then brought me a chair, loaned me a coat, offered me the paramedic, and let me sit there for over an hour, til long after they’d wrapped, just to make sure I was able to make it home.
Without them I’d have struggled for ages while screaming, crying, and sabotaging my arms from having to literally drag myself along; I’ve done it before and it’s left me bed-bound for days. Instead a group of strangers who were supposed to be working took the time to ensure I was not only incredibly well looked after but also, in this particular guy’s case, taught me something which will make every future occurrence more bearable. The kindness of strangers leaves me in awe. A thousand cheers for the Sherlock crew.
Now to think of a way to both find them and say thank you.