When I woke up (late) this morning, I had no way of knowing tonight I would have a dream come true. I guess that just goes to show you never know where the day will take you. Let me explain.Worked all day, came home and settled in to work some more. I handed Brian the Free Times I pick up every week, the little alternative college-like newspaper for this town.
So there I am sitting at the computer putting invoices in, when he calls from the other room, "Is today September 17th?" I said "Yes..." (This didn't alert me to anything unusual, as he often has to verify the day's date with me) He then says, "Well, Kevin Smith is at the Koger Center tonight." Insert sound of needle scratching across record and everything coming to a complete halt.
My first thought was, "How could I, fangirl extraordinaire, have missed this?" I mean, I still check concert listings every week even though we don't go to concerts. I know what the hell goes on in this town! Regardless, I start running around in circles, not really understanding what I'm doing. It was 6:05 and the show started at 7. I tell Brian to jump in the shower and hurry the hell up and he says, "No, I don't think I want to go this time." This time? THIS time?? Like this happens on a monthly basis? Whatever. This has no bearing on me going.
I threw on my no-fail uniform of jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, powdered my face and was out the door in seven minutes. Fourteen minutes after that I skidded into the parking lot, grabbed my debit card, phone and bottle of water and hauled ass inside. Even though I didn't have my USC staff ID on me, they let me have the $5 ticket anyway. So pretty much for less than the price of seeing a movie, I saw my favorite filmmaker of all time. Not a bad deal.
But here's the catch. Kevin's shows are always Q & A's, which means he has nothing prepared to say; he stands there for hours doing nothing but answering questions and telling little stories relating to what people ask him. I'd seen one two years before in Orlando (I'm sure there's a blog about it somewhere back there) and so knew the deal. However, for two years I've been kicking myself in the ass for not asking the man a question when I had the chance. Well, here was my second chance.
Except if you know me at all you know damn well public speaking ranks right up there with root canals and anal probes. Just sitting in my seat THINKING about speaking to him got my heart rate up to dangerous levels. Cold sweats, the whole thing. What finally got me up there? Well, for one thing I always say I want to have as few regrets as possible and this would be a biggie if I passed another opportunity like this. Secondly the people that WERE up there asking questions were so dumb for the most part, I knew anything I said wouldn't make me look like a schmuck. And really, I didn't give a shit about what anyone in there thought of me except for one person and since I'd practiced my question in my head for two years, I knew it was decent.
I took my place in line at mic 1. There were four of them and he alternated back and forth on both sides of the room. As my turn got closer and closer the nerves hit again, but I didn't let it get out of control. And then I stepped up to the mic. Picture me, Chickenshit of the Ages with a microphone in front of a thousand people and Kevin Smith. Thinking, "God, please don't let my voice shake, my knees knock or my bowels loosen. Afterwards, fine, but not now God." The following is a brief recap of the conversation, because he took about ten minutes to answer. Ten! Minutes!!!
I said, "I saw your Q & A in Orlando a couple of years ago..."
He said, "Oh yeah, the one where they had the stage set up like the Clerks storefront?"
KS: "Sweet, what'd you think?"
Me: "Well, it was great. You talked for about five hours before we had to get up and leave..."
KS: "Why'd you leave?"
Me: "Well, my sister was very pregnant at the time and needed food and water."
KS: "Totally understood."
Me: "But we talked afterwards about how cool it was that you still care enough about your fans that you do these things and just stand there for hours talking to us. What makes you still so real and down-to-earth after all the success you've had?"
So that was my question. He went into a fairly long-winded dialogue about how he thinks fame pretty much only magnifies what's already there, that he wouldn't know how to be fake or want to spend that much energy doing that and also how him being fat also made him a lot more gracious than most people. That made me sad. But he gave a great answer to what I think was a pretty good question, especially compared to some of what the college freshman males were asking him ("If you could fuck Sarah Palin, would you?" and "If they could clone humans into hamburger meat, which celebrity would you eat?", etc.)
After he was done I said thank you and he said, "Thanks, I appreciated that question."
Oh. Oh God. Oh my God.
I did not picture this happening when I woke up this morning cursing because the alarm didn't go off.
Life is so crazy sometimes.