How I Became a Shatner Spokesperson
-or-
Here's Another Fine Mess You Cappers Got Me Into
Shatner would be there from 8:00 to 9:00. I got there around 7:00. I carefully searched the line inside the store for my friend. I looked at every face, knowing how easily I could miss him. When I realized he hadn't shown up yet, I took a place on the short line outside. Of course, it would have been nice if I checked the other line inside the store that was hidden by the stairs. That's were he and his friends were already waiting.
So, I'm outside by myself. A half hour passes and I'm getting really aggravated with my friend for not showing up. This is my first meeting with a celebrity (not counting opera singers for some reason). How am I supposed to act?
The line now is going 'round and 'round the building. I'm bored. Really bored. I look up and down the line and I am the only person who is standing alone. The couple behind me decide they're hungry. The husband goes off and returns with Chinese food and I spend ten minutes listening to them chomping behind my head. I check the whole line again. Nobody else is eating. Just these two slobs behind me.
An employee of the book store starts running up and down the line informing us that anyone on the outside line has no guarantee of getting their books signed because Shatner will only be there for an hour (there are over a thousand people on line). I translate this to, "You people have NO chance of meeting Shatner but please keep buying books."
Now I'm really discouraged. I'm staring into space when the couple behind me decide they want ice cream cones. Every time the husband takes off for food, the line closes in. Then he has to squeeze in behind me even closer when he comes back. Slurp slurp slurp.
I'm ready to kill my friend. I can't believe I've been standing on the sidewalk for almost an hour and I probably won't be able to meet Shatner anyway. I want to ask the people behind me if they'd watch my spot while I go look for my friend but that would mean talking to a stranger. I can't do thaaaaaaat! I'm too shy! I start thinking about just leaving.
Then I remember the big fuss I made about this event during the week. I remember all the suggestions I got from my internet buddies of what to say to Shatner. I remember I'm supposed to ask Shatner if he's aware of all the "Hell toupee-Gut boy-I want you Spock" kinda jokes we make on CAPTION THIS (not in those words, of course). How can I slink back to the cyber world Monday and say I failed my mission?
Okay, I'll see this torment through.
Maybe something interesting will happen.
Suddenly a news crew appears at the head of he line. They start filming the whole crowd. I think that this is something. If I could get a screengrab of this off my TV later, I could send out a "Find Xigeous" picture. Yes! That would be.. that would be... crap-o-la.
People start waving to the camera. I'd like to wave too but, no, I'm too shy!
Then the news crew starts walking down the line. I get a little excited. Are they looking for someone to interview? Well that's gonna be ME dammit! (Where did that shy guy go?)
I flip Shatner's book out in front of me with the title facing out and use it as a media homing beacon. I stand innocently and confidently as I smile at the newscaster as she passes. She turns to me. She approaches. She says hello to me! G'ah! What have I done? Now I have to talk sense! Can I do that?
She: I see you have Shatner's Book there. Can you tell me about it?
Me: (already confused) Do you mean tell you about the book or about William Shatner? (Does she think I read the book already? I just bought it!)
She: Tell me about the book.
(Gee. This book is about the nerds that annoy Shatner. If I say "nerd," I'll never get on TV!)
Me: This book is about all the other Star Trek fans that are not like me in any way.
(The crowd giggles. That's a good sign. Or a bad sign.)
She: Can you tell me how the people in the book act?
Me: They are so in love with Star Trek and William Shatner that they built a life style around it.
She: And you're not like that?
Me: Oh, no. But I do love Star Trek. Bill Shatner is Mr. Science Fiction to me.
(Bill Shatner?)
Me: I'm a Trekker. Not a Trekkie.
She: There's a difference?
Me. Yessss.
She: What's the difference?
Me: Umm... Ummm... They dream about him during the night. I just think about him during the day.
She: Thank you.
I end with a brilliant bon mot! (Well, a so-so bon mot at the very least.)
At this point, everybody starts to laugh. Even the cameraman says "Hey, that was pretty good."
I'm pleased with myself because I have not yet realized I said "I think about him" when I meant to say "I think about it" meaning "Star Trek." I don't daydream about Shatner! For that matter, I don't even daydream about Star Trek! I just watch it. It's shameless what a person will say to get on TV.
The Book Store employees inform us that Shatner has arrived and will try to sign everyone's books. This means no conversation, no pictures. (I later learned that my friend took a few pictures and was scolded by management. He also asked Shatner to sign a baseball. Shatner does not sign baseballs.)
The line starts moving quickly. Suddenly I'm inside the building. Suddenly I'm up the stairs. How could anybody be whipping off signatures that fast?
As I draw near to the Shatman, an employee runs up to me and yells, "You're holding your book wrong!"
She takes my book and moves the dust cover passed the first page so Shat can sign the book faster. I do not understand why I'm the only person on line who does not know how to hold his book but I see the sense in it and say, "Yes, I guess it's good to save a few seconds."
She thinks I'm mocking her and starts yelling at me again. "Look, every few seconds we save another person can have his book signed!"
I'm somewhat humiliated. Doesn't this woman know who I am? I'm the guy who thinks about Shatner! (I'll have her fired later.)
As I approach the Shatster, my book is snatched away from me by an employee. She hands it to Shatner, herself. He's already signing it by the time I step forward. As I stand before this TV legend among men, his head is down and what do I see? The HELL TOUPEE dead on! *GASP* It looks so benign in real life!
He pushes the book toward me. He looks up. We make eye contact. I say "Thank you Mr. Shatner" and move on. (I could hardly hold up the line to ask my assigned questions and cheat somebody else out of meeting him at all. Oh, well.)
As I walk away, I think to myself, who the hell was that? It all happened too fast to recognize anyone. I turn around to give him a good look. Yup. It's him.
I see my friend and go over to his group. I soon find out that he got there before me. Good thing I wasn't too grouchy when I approached him. He's very excited that he got four books signed and got to make a little conversation with Shatner. No one is very interested when I say I was interviewed by the news. I feel slighted. Human nature I guess. (The next day he wanted to know all about it, though, so I felt better.)
Later that evening they run the Shatner news story. I still don't know whether or not they'll pick my "interview." I try to tell myself that it's not that important but realize I'll have to kill myself if I don't get on.
A minute into the segment, there I am! I'm so excited that you'd think I just got my own TV series.
They only show my ending so-so bon mot explaining the difference between Trekkers and Trekkies. But what's that under my name? "Shatner Fan?" No! No! I'm a Star Trek fan, you morons! This is an unjust branding!
Oh, well. That's show biz. And that's my fifteen seconds of fame (fifteen exactly). I'm well aware that many people have made small appearances on TV like this but it was still pretty exciting.
Also, I found that after keeping a long story long and telling it many times throughout the week that followed, I grew accustomed to playing a Shatner "Spokesperson" and decided to retain the title. At least, until his lawyers call me.
Is it my imagination or is everyone looking at his hinder?
I'm sure he's asking if the coffee shop has donuts.
"Would you like this in English or Sanskrit?"
He's just kidding. Everybody gets Sanskrit
And here I am. Mr. Cantstopeating is peering over my shoulder.