Wil Wheaton. What a fantastic guy. Handsome, geeky, talented, and really, really funny. I don't really know much of his acting besides Stand by Me, but I sure do enjoy his writing. My friend who used to edit my stories turned me on to him about a year ago. Maybe less. No matter, it was love at first read. So imagine my thrill when he put out a new book and was coming to Portland for a book signing!!
I immediately loan my sister his first book, give her his website link and informed her she is accompanying me to the signing. We decide to go up early and make a day of fun out of it. The plan sounds good-no? Riiiight. What could go wrong?
Let me say this. My sister is like me. We both have some serious issues with other peoples driving. We both feel more comfortable if we are the one behind the wheel. However I won the coin toss, so it is my car we took up. And by the time we got to Portland, Deeda was a emotional mess. She moved from smoking cigarettes to rolling big fat cigar sized joints. And she began to drink. (J/K just checkin to see if you are still with me) But she would cover her face with the map and breath deeply every time we passed a big truck. So when it came time to get off the freeway, she was no longer able to direct me as effectively as she should have, and soon we made a wrong turn. My first thought was to get back on, but one look at her wide eyes and rapid breathing, I decided to take my chances in the city. After all I tell her, it is all about the adventure. She just nodded her head and took a big hit.
We soon found Powells bookstore and get down to the business of having an adventure. We walked down to the tech store and asked several questions about how the signing would go, how it worked, how early should we get there to get good seats etc. They gave us some bad instructions. If we took their advice, we would have been standing in the back the whole time. We then asked for some suggestions for some good grub places as we were starving. Which had nothing to do with the big joint. (you know I am kidding here. We did not inhale. We promise) And then they give us some seriously poor directions. So off Deeta and I go to get extremely lost.
Which we did with great ease. Right into the heart of China town which can be a seriously dangerous place. There was lots of homeless around, many seedy looking characters, and I am sure-a few serial killers. After many blocks we ask directions to this Thai restaurant only to find out we had been standing right by it 4-5 blocks back. After walking back to where we started (in a light rain) we found the Thai joint. It looked good and it served the soup that we were on the quest to buy, but right as we opened the door to go in a man walks up holding a sign that they will be closed until 4. Damn!
Off we go again when I realize we are at the place where Dave and I went to see Steve! Dantes! I wanted to go in with her and show her all the porn, but we were starving too badly. Which, if you are too hungry for porn, then you are REALLY, REALLY hungry. (I kid. I'm a kidder, this is all an attempt to horrify my sister. Which I am sure I am doing. I am Eeeevil that way) and I tell her we will go to the Thai place Dave and I went to. Just another ten blocks or so up the road. *groan*
On the way we pass a bunch of roach coaches and decide that we will chow down there. We ordered Pad Thai with chicken, some sort of Indian food, and a soup called Tom Khi. Which is better than sex, this soup. (Did I just talk like Yoda? Tell me I DID NOT just talk like yoda!) Made with coconut milk, lemon grass, Chicken, straw mushrooms, Thai chili's (which this soup lacked) onions and other such yumminess. It is so delish I would walk a mile for it. Which that day, we easily did. No sooner did we sit down then the heavens opened and POURED rain on us. So great. I am going to meet Wil looking like a wet dog. Nice. Sexy.
Now I don't want to look like a wet dog. I put a little bit of effort into what I was going to wear. Under the advice of my best friend I chose my white shirt that is cleavaglicious, and some cute capris. Now this white shirt was bought for my Texas trip and made famous when I spilled coffee all down the front of myself when I blew into my cup instead of sucking, in my Portland review. I wear this shirt for important things. I like it. But it is white, and we know that white is a color that screams to be abused. And wearing the white is Shalagh, who is an accident waiting to happen. I do not let me down. First spoonful of this yummy Indian dish misses my mouth completely, but not my shirt. Now I have this big red mess on my boobs. Greaaaaaat.
Now I will be wet, and filthy. I am so sexy. You want me, don't you?
So we walk back to Powells and I go into the bathroom to scrub it with water, soap and paper towels. I don't know what spices Indians use, but it is permanent. So now I have this huge water spot across my big red boobs. Wil is going to be impressed. Then I remember I brought a red pull over sweater with me when I came! Never mind it is a warm and steamy day, I will redeem myself from my mess by wearing a sweater. Oh happy day! Sweat is sexy-right?
My sister and I head up to Whole Foods where we find the essential oils. Every one that we sniffed and liked, it went on us. Every one. So in no time at all we smelled. Seriously, her and I stunk pretty. I am sure that all the people crammed in around us at the book signing will LOVE us. To test this theory we head to the signing.
Sure enough we are squeezed in tight with everyone else and we have a good hour and a half to sweat. I mean wait. We sit, we talk, I sweat, we reek, and in no time at all Wil comes in. And he was fabulous. Fan*frickin*tastic. He read two stories for us, answered a few questions, then we were herded to a line to stand in. I was at the tail end. Only a handful of folks behind me. So more sweating was done by myself as I talked to all the geeky geeks around me about Sci-fi things. (Which I wouldn't have ever been able to do if it weren't for my best friend getting his dork all over me.)
Now it was our turn. I walk up and for some reason, I squat in front of him. Frankly it felt good to squat and relieve my back some. So we talk and joke and he signs my book (a very generic signing-which I hate.) "To Shalagh-Wil Wheaton"
To me what? Didn't you forget to say something Wil? You did? I thought so. How about "to Shalagh: Sweet Jesus you stink, take a bath."
Or "To Shalagh: Nice boobs, too bad they are wearing half your lunch"
"to Shalagh: You can sweat like a pig, man you are sexy."
Or "To Shalagh: you look like a wet dog."
I mean, come on! Anything but To Shalagh: Wil wheaton. But whatever, I am at the end so I am sure he is tired of us by now. So after some chit chat I go to stand to leave. Only my legs don't work. They are refusing to take directions from my brain which is saying, sweet trinity rise. RISE. Get up for God's sakes! I get half way up and a few things happen.
1- leg cramp
2-my purse hit the underside of the table, pushing me back down
3-I grab the table and pull. The table is a card table. I am a big girl. This did not have good results.
4-I fall over. ish. As in I almost fall over, but not really.
But enough that my sister grabs me and hauls my fat ass off the floor while Wil jumps out of his seat and asks me if I am ok. Oh yeah. I am Soooo smooth. This is why everyone wants to be me.
This is Kinda embarrassing. Seriously. I am wet, sweaty, smelly, tired, and to be sure Wil remembers me-I pitch myself on to the floor at his feet. Could I be humbled any further? I stand up, ask him if we can get a picture together. He tells me no.
Oh. So I CAN be shamed further. Thanks for clearing that up, Wil. He does apologize deeply saying they close in 15 mins and want to make it through the line. I am gracious. Of course I understand. I tell him to keep up the good writing as I like it very much. I also tell him to keep his eye on me as I leave because I will probably take a header on the way out.
No wait. I just thought that.
So as we walk out to my car I am over come with a serious case of the giggles thinking of what my friend will say to me when he hears how my day went. To which when I told him, he laughed long and hard and told me I did not let him down. He wondered when I would turn this innocent little trip to see a star into a Shalagh story, and he was glad to see it happen early, and last the duration of the night.
Asshat.
