Inferno

I had an audition for “John Doe” this morning.
I watched it over the weekend, and thought it was pretty good. There were some things that I thought were very “pilot heavy,” but other than that, I think the show has great potential…sort of a Bourne Identity meets Millennium, meets Girls Gone Wild.
A brief explaination of “pilot heavy” is in order: When a series creator wants to sell his or her idea to a network, after all the scripts are approved, and the casting is done, the creator shoots what is called a “pilot.” In the pilot, the creator has to show the network more or less what they’re going to do over the years of the series, and introduce them to the main cast, as well as to the viewing audience. Because of these necessities, pilots can be a little heavy on the talking and exposition, and the explosions and stuff.
So I thought it was a little “pilot heavy,” but not bad at all. I don’t think anyone should ever judge a series by it’s pilot.
So I’m a little excited about this audition, because I like the show, and I haven’t had an audition in several weeks.
Funny aside: at an audition I had a few weeks ago, I walked in, and the receptionist comes over to me and says, “You’re Wil Wheaton, right?” I told her that I was, and she replied to me, excitedly, “I LOVE YOUR WEBSITE!”
Okay, I thought that was really cool. =]
Anyway, there’s this massive brushfire burning near my house, and the resulting cloud of smoke is thousands of milles thick, and hovering over my house, so when I walked out to my car, it was covered in ash, and the sun was casting this spooky blood red haze down on everything. My lawn is completely dead, so it was sort of orange…wish I’d taken a picture of it, but I didn’t.
So I head over to the audition, which is to play a character called “Elvis”, who is described thusly:
“a wild-eyed genius with an IQ that’s over 160…a former “Doogie Howser” with a brilliant mind and questionable social skills. The youthful chief of neurosurgery at a Seattle hospital…”
Sound familiar? He’s sort of halfway between Wesley and the guy I played on Invisible Man, so it’s not a lot of work to prepare the audition…I even get some technobabble…albeit medical terminology, which is a little bit easier to remember.
I get to the audition early, and as I’m walking up the stairs, I am passed by this AMAZINGLY BEAUTIFUL GIRL, who is clearly reading for the part of the AMAZINGLY BEAUTIFUL GIRL…I shit you not, she is even wearing a red dress.
As she passes me, I am engulfed in the intoxicating sent of her perfume, and I am hit full in the face with a hypernostalgic memory from when I was about 15…


I’m with my best friend Darin. We’ve just seen a movie in Burbank, and we’re driving back to his house. We could take the freeway, and be there in about 15 minutes, but we choose to take a more circuitous surface street route, knowing that it will allow us to stay out longer.
We’re listening to “The Queen is Dead” as we pull through the curves of this particular street, talking about girls, comics, Nintendo, and debating the me. We stop at a light, and a two girls pull up next to us. I look over, notice that they’re insanely hot, and begin to get nervous. At 15, I’m convinced that any girl I see is a potential trip to at second base…though I’ve never even been to first base, or really had a real at bat, yet.
Darin looks over, and says, “Hey! That’s Misty!”
“What?”
“That’s Misty! I know her from school.”
Darin waves to her, and we all get out of our cars, leaving them idling in the middle of the street, in the middle of the night. Over the next few months, and even now, that simple act of standing in the middle of the steet would bring me incredible satisfaction.
Darin introduces me to her, and she is very, very nice to me. I am immediately drawn to her. She is about my height, with lots of thick blonde hair and bright green eyes that stand out from her face in the La Crescenta night. She is funny, and engaging, and our conversation is easy and effortless. She is also wearing this amazing perfume, that gives me goosebumps…I realize with some embarassment that I have been inhaling deeply through my nose, while she talks, drinking her in.
We talk for a long time, Darin and I carefully avoiding topics like the ones we’ve been discussing in the car. Though we are nerds, we know that Cthulhu is just not discussed in the presence of potential foolin’ around.
A few cars pull up behind us, and we wave them around, as we stand there in the middle of the street, in the middle of the night, enjoying the freedom of being away from our parent’s ever-watchful eyes, talking to a beautiful girl while Morrissey entreats an anonymous driver to “take me out, tonight…take me anywhere I don’t care I don’t care…”
Eventually, that time comes when we have to get home, and she has to leave as well. We begin the awkward process of saying goodbye, and I try to screw up the courage to ask Misty for her phone number. We stand there a little too long, me fumbling with my words, and she asks, “Would you like to go out sometime?”
I unsuccesfully try to act nonchalant and my voice breaks as I reply, “Sure!”
She writes her number down on a 3×5 card…which I provide to her from within my Car Wars Deluxe Edition box set. She writes her name and number on the card, and before she delivers it into my sweaty hand, she takes a bottle of perfume from within her purse, and sprays the card.
“So you won’t forget me,” she said.
Yeah, like there is any chance of that happening.
I put the card back into my Car Wars Box, and we all get back into our cars, still idling in the middle of the street, in the middle of the night.
Darin and I drive back to his house in an electrified, excited, stunned silence.
I have gotten a phone number from a beautiful blonde, without even asking.

Though I kept that card in that box for years… I never got the courage to call her. I don’t know why, really…I know I was super geeky and afraid that she’d want to make out, or something, and I wouldn’t know what to do (I should be so lucky)…maybe I was content to sit in the safety of my garage, listening to Oingo Boingo, happily considering what could be…maybe I was just a lameass who didn’t know what to do when the golden prize landed in his lap.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s the last one.
After my audition today, as I was driving home into this great ominous cloud of thick grey smoke, I thought about that night, and the months that surrounded it. I thought about the way her perfume still permeates my Car Wars Deluxe Edition Box Set, and the times I’d play Car Wars in my dressing room with my friend Caius, when I was working on TNG.
I remembered how cool I thought it was to be on Trek back then, and how much fun it was to be part of something that I knew was great. It was wonderful to be part of something that made me feel proud. I feel that same way about WWDN. I feel proud of this stupid website, and the chance it’s given me to find my Voice…I feel proud that even though the source is clunky and I really need to redo everything now that I know what I’m doing, this lame website is mine, for better or for worse.
As I drove home, I looked to my right, at the bright blue September sky over Downtown, and off to my left at the growing cloud of smoke swrling around the mountains, and wondered whatever happened to Misty, who signed her name with a heart over the i. I wondered if she remembers standing in the middle of that road, in the middle of the night, fifteen years ago. I wondered what that amazingly beautiful girl in the red dress would say if she knew that the smell of her perfume had put me in a time machine.
The fire burned hotter, out of control.

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165 thoughts on “Inferno”

  2. Man. Unrequited Love. At last, Unca Willy and I have something in common!
    I sympathize with you, man. There’s been times like that in my life when I SHOULDA CALLED DAMNIT but never worked up the courage.
    Here’s to ya, Monkey Wrangler. 🙂

  3. Nice story Wil… I think we all have memories of nights just like that one (well maybe not JUST like that one, but you know what I mean)
    I hope the ash from those fires doesn’t wreck your paint job either
    Later…

  7. For all the rest of you guys out there, when the girl gives you her number, CALL HER.
    I’ll forgive you Wil because you ended up with a cool chick anyway. 😉

  9. I love that song…
    …and if a double decker bus kills the both of us, to die by your side… well the pleasure and the privlidge is mine…
    That was an awesome memory, Wil. 🙂

  10. Sometimes the past’s phantoms haunt all of us. Sometimes its a song, a smell a similar face. Your writing never fails to bore me.
    And like the other guy said before, a girl gives you her number call her.

  11. Best wishes on the audition. Nice story. It’s funny how a scent will take you right back to the past. If I smell lavender, I’m right back to childhood with my grandmother. That must be why I planted some in my front yard so I can pass by it on my way to work.

  12. Wil–
    The other night when you wrote your log with the Dead Milkman quote–although not a remarkable journal, it brought me back to a time and space I’d forgotten about–It changed my feelings that day. Today you’ve done it again, I appreaciate your sincerity and truth in your log. You are quite a talented writer and should have great success at it. It makes me proud to log on to your site. Instead of reading mindless pop culture banter, I’ve read some literature today.

  13. god, boys like you pissed me off. I have had several guys now tell me they had such a crush on me once upon a time and all i can remember is sitting at home wishing the phone would ring. Ya know the sick in the pit of your stomache, heart pounding feeling when the phone would ring, then the crush when it was for your mom kinda nights. I still have those as a matter of fact. I bet she does remember that night and thinks she did something stupid or looked bad and thats why you didnt call her.

  15. It’s all just moments in time.
    They can define who we are or make us say, if only.
    You’re still “the kid who almost set your aunt on fire”
    This is a nice place, Wheaton, thank you.

  16. I know what is on all of our minds; How did Misty feel about you? and Do you think she will ever know how you felt? I believe that Misty might have felt the same nervousness that you felt because she knew you weren’t just some lameass geek boy that thought she was hot. You had(have) depth and you will always have that…
    By the way, does that whole story remind anyone of the Matrix; Lady in the Red Dress…
    Until your next story…

  17. I was friends with my husband for several years before we eventually got together, and a while ago I made a list of all the girls (that I know of) that had crushes on him at one time or another, but never went out with him. I got to number 24 (me) and then showed him the list. His jaw hit the floor — he knew about maybe three of them.
    Men just have no clue.

  18. I think we all have memories and triggers that bring them up. I lost my grandmother last sunday and for the life of my I can’t bring myself to go near her house because it smells like her.

  19. Good luck with John Doe. It was one of the new shows that I have watched thus far and liked. The rest seem to be just more of the same old same old.

  20. Turtle – men have no clue because you women never just tell us what you want! Always has to be a little game of “figure it out”. 😉
    Damned women! =)

  21. Yeah, we women are SO confusing… Why can’t we just SAY what we want? Like maybe in writing. In block letters. On some sort of big billboard.
    Sigh…

  22. wow.
    there’s something about your writing that brings out the time machine for all of us, i think….
    just reading your story made me remember a few episodes like that of my own.
    …there’s something magical about those half-forgotten summer evenings, cruising with a friend, talking about music, roleplaying games (whaa..you thought you were the only geek here?) movies, and most of all…GIRLS..
    the ones you were in love with,
    the ones you wish you had the nerve to talk to…
    the ones your were pretty sure might actually like you, and you were dying to find out….
    at the time, you couldn’t wait to get older..
    and now,….
    you can only begin to realize how great it was back then…
    then again, i’m married to the girl of my dreams, and have a dream job as an art-director, and just bought a house…
    so growing up has it’s moments too..
    🙂
    thanks for the great story wil

  24. You know speaking as a woman I have to tell you after reading your story along with some of the comments I think (dare I say it) I finally have some minute understanding of how your gender ticks. Could this possibly be one of the answers to the question” why didn’t he call ? He seemed like such a nice guy” and then the after thought of “I guess he wasnt interested after all”
    Well here’s a tip, speaking as the other gender, sometimes we are just as taken with you but have NO CLUE how to tell you without looking foolish.
    And Wil, I wish all nice guys could speak so eloquently through his words. I think every girl wishes she were Misty to someone at least once in her life.

  26. In all seriousness, I think a lot of guys (myself very much included) are a little scared and need to have some assurance that the feelings are mutual before they make any kind of move. Many times we wait too long and end up in the dreaded “friend zone”.
    It’s no fault but our own, I realize. It’s just a bit of an explanation as to why some of us seem to be so dense about women being interested in us.

  27. Is it just me, or do I hear Chris de Burgh singing in the background… ?
    Ahhhh… young mis-guided love…
    Geez, I am gettin’ too old for this stuff!

  29. Katie Parkin, summer camp, 8th grade. She allowed me to stare at her legs, put my hands on her waist, the small of her back, fingertips just under the hem of her shirt. I buried my face in her neck, letting her short curls whisper against my cheek and her sweat dampen my shoulder.
    Wow.
    She wanted to be close after camp let out, enough so that she ran over and stuck her head in the window of my Mom’s Oldsmobile and pressed her phone number into my hand. I never called, and this was after we had danced and sweated and were cautioned by the chaperones, after we went out into the night, away from the humidity generated by the rushing avalanche of hormones generated by teenagers at church camp and innuendo-laden 80’s pop. I like to remember that there was a kiss. I could be wrong. It could be that the intimacy merely suggested it. I delude myself sometimes.

  32. Well, everyone else has pretty much covered everything I could think of saying about the relative clulessness of boys, so I’ll have to fall back on introducing more people to this page:
    http://home.cogeco.ca/~veganmozfan/part1.html
    which carefully explains all the correlations between the song you were listening to on that fateful night, and the death of Princess Di. I know it’s totally random, but hey, I’m TangentGirl.

  33. I feel for ya, Wil. I was a dork/geek in school, and now I’m all cool, grown up, and can handle myself in social situations. At least that’s how I pretend to be.
    If only I knew then what I know now.
    I’m subbing in schools, so I sat in on a couple of high school classes last week. After more than 15 years out of high school, I now see that they’re still kids. On the threshold of being all grown up, but still good kids. I’m glad that I didn’t know then what I know now. Growing up is part of the experience.
    I still miss my ex-girlfriends, but I’m married now and there’s no way *I’m* gonna complain about how things have turned out.

  34. One more thing I just remembered.
    This girl I went out with on a couple of innocent dates tried to kiss me, and I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE! I was in college, and apparently still a clueless dork. Dang, she was a babe, too. Dork dork dork dork.

  35. I find the mention of Cthulu and Morrissey in the same piece of writing to be one of the most endearing things I’ve read in quite awhile. It instantly reminds me of similar situations in my past. Although my token is a many sided d&d dice.
    I’m your standard geek (I’m a cover artist dealing in fantasy and sci-fi) so I must admit when I originally visited your website it was because you were a part of Star Trek. But after spending quite a bit of time reading your writings I think you are far more interesting and enjoyable than any script you’ve delivered as an actor. This is not to knock your acting one bit (although I would be one of those people saying –the curse? what were you thinking! 😉 but to say your writing is excellent. This is why I find myself watching that silly game channel now. It’s bad enough my better half has gotten me into watching Screen Savors at night.

  36. Nifty story man, you should seriously consider doing more. You evoke images seemingly without effort and you have a knack for bringing the reader into your memory through the use of the senses. We can smell see and hear it, and we can definitely feel it. Good job!

  38. Wil,
    I’m sure your audition was good. The rest is up to whoever is casting this show. I am sure that you know this.
    As for meeting good looking girls, at that age, they are fiiiiiiiine!!!!!!!!!!!!! Some stay like that at any age. It is great to see that you have the memory to take yourself back and write about something that took place that long ago. Does anyone have the courage to call these breath-taken, beach owning, highway stopping, mind freezing constant sunshines of nature. Even if you do not call, you have called them 1000 times on the first night you meet them. I think some of them know it too.
    Where does the time go?
    F.g

  39. Oh Man Wil!! I cry every time I read one of these stories of yours, these reminiscing type stories that touch my heart & soul!! FOR THE LOVE OF MIKE!! WRITE A BOOK!! PLEASE!! You have such a gifted talent for story telling!!
    ‘Break a leg’ on the John Doe opportunity! I watched that show the other night & enjoyed it, hope you get the gig!

  40. Great story. I’ve read entire novels that didn’t put me in the moment as much as that story. Engaging site. Reason enough to be proud.

  41. Wil, Thanks for the sharing the memory and the awkward moment. In my case, I actually asked the girl out, dated a few times, only to have her tell me I was coming on too strong. If you knew how geeky I was then (OK, still am), there’s no way I came on too strong…go figure.
    Fortunately, when I met the totally incredible woman I married, she eliminated the ambiguity by presenting me with a lunch basket filled with all the necessities and invited me on a picnic. We never did go on the picnic…just fell in love and got maried. Best, Rob

  42. That was such a sweet story, Wil. *sigh*
    Memories…
    And yeah, I know whatcha mean about that fire. The Sun was casting such an ominous hue of orange over here. That smoke messed with my nose & throat today!
    Anyway, I hope your audition has good results. :]

  44. Wow, having the actual phone number on a perfumed card and never calling her is so completely geek-validating. Wouldn’t it be cool if it turned out Misty was a total Wesley freak, and pined away for you for years and years, and you never knew it. Actually that would kind of suck. Never mind. I sure hope she reads your site and drops you a line though, or sends you a perfumed card in the mail.
    I also hope you learned a lesson about there being cues in life that you just plain take, no questions. In the words of Eddie Murphy, say you walk into a house and a deep voice comes out of the walls and says, “GET OUT!” You would GET, the FUCK, OUT.
    heh-heh

  45. Wheaton you were a schmuck. What did it take to get a date out of you – hitting you in the head with a 2×4? 😉
    Let this be a lesson to you all – a beautiful girl gives you her number on a perfumed card – follow her up!
    Then again, after things have developed and down the track she might say “Eddiiieee! I want half Edddiieeeeee!”

  46. What is it about music and scents that make them so nostagia provoking? Every once in a blue moon I catch a whiff of one of those particular perfumes that reminds me not of a particular girl, but of the heart-melting spark of being near such sublime sweetness. And music is the same way. Just the mention of a band or a song, if it is one of those that made an impression back in that time, will take me right there in an instant. Like fer instance, Wil’s mention of Oingo Boingo reminded me of those mix tapes, just before I started buying CD’s, and the excitement of freedom in an 18′ long, gold-colored ’67 Dodge Charger with a little brass plaque we put on the dash that read “U.S.S. Nemisis, two tons of fun.” because we thought it was cool. Yes, I know we misspelled it, but we didn’t at the time, and that makes it sort of quaint. Everything seemed more dramatic back then. Every conversation seemed like it could be life-changing. Now, for contrast, my wife and I are waiting to find out if she if pregnant for the third time in three years, and if she is, the unexpected development would disrupt everything quite thoroghly. I’m praying hard that she isn’t, but I sleep okay. Thats life, which is what happens while you are making other plans.Sorry if I’ve rambled on, Wil. I don’t have a weblog, so I’m borrowing yours;-)

  47. Wil,
    I always thought you should get on the ER
    series…
    and I noticed that “time travel” is going to be a
    new part of “Enterprise”…
    who knows Wil, maybe Misty is still out there..
    getting on your web site…
    and just what fire are you talking about with your end line…
    “the fire burned hotter, out of control.”
    nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more, say no more
    😉
    later

  50. Wil,
    That was amazing!
    As obvious as it should already be to us, if there is one life lesson I’ll take from wilwheaton.net (And I will) it’s that celebrities are human. Man, did that story ever bring me back. You always assume that celebs are these invincible amazing people who do EVERYTHING you’ve always wanted to do. I guess it takes stories like this to realize that celebs still have feelings and aren’t made of stone.
    I think you’ve taken us all in that time machine with you, though we’re all getting off at different stops.

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