I love my adorable puppy, but boy was she an asshole today.
Dogshaming Marlowe
Category: blog
in which tropical drinks are ordered
On our anniversary last week, Anne and I decided to take a field trip to Disneyland and goof off for the day. It was damn close to perfect: it was warm in the sun and cool in the shade, not very crowded, and the longest we waited for anything was fifteen minutes. We ended the day at Trader Sam’s tiki bar in the Disneyland hotel.
“Do you know what you’d like to order?” The bartender asked us.
“What are you getting?” Anne asked me.
“I was thinking about that shipwreck drink,” I said.
“Me too,” she said.
“Well, then, you get that and I’ll get something different.” I said.
The bartender said, “You guys could both get the same drink, you know…”
“Oh no,” I said, “because that’s the first step to –”
Anne and I said, in unison, “–matching tracksuits.”
Then we laughed like people who had had lots of fruity tropical drinks, even though we hadn’t had a single one.
We ended up getting different drinks, and then shared a drink that was on fire, which is why I can’t remember the name of the drink I got. (Honestly, they’re all variations on the same theme: too much rum, a bunch of sugary stuff and a dash of primary colour served in a vessel shaped like a skull or a tiki or something that could have once been a monkey, if that monkey was carved from a coconut in 1955.) It was a great day, and the perfectly silly way to celebrate the best day of my life, thirteen years ago.
About that Star Trek Proposal Picture…
You’ve probably seen this picture, or at least heard the story about the man who proposed to his now-fiancée at the Austin Comic Convention a couple of weeks ago.
I was asked on Reddit to fill in some details, and though I was not OP, I delivered:
It was Sunday at Austin Wizard World Con. I had the flu, and almost missed this photo session. Though I had a fever and no cowbell, I sat there and smiled for everyone as best as I could, grateful that I’d spent the entire night throwing up so there was nothing left in me to vomit all over the fans like I was cosplaying from the Exorcist.
The way this sort of photo session works is pretty standard: people come in, stand next to Patrick, say a few words, and then we all pose for the picture. Each person is there for less than half a minute (which I think really sucks because of how much they pay for the opportunity, but is pretty much the only way we can manage the hundreds of people who usually sign up for these things.)
About 30 minutes or so into this particular session, these two people came in. The girl went to stand between Patrick and Frakes, and the guy directed her to stand in the front, instead. All of us tried to figure out what was going on (usually it’s small kids who come to the front, usually sitting on Brent’s lap or Gates’ lap), and the guy said, “I really love Star Trek, but I love [her name] even more.” He got down on one knee, and proposed to her.
Marina started to cry, I felt like I was going to cry, and we all applauded and celebrated when she said “yes.” Apparently, they’d met Marina earlier in the day, and Marina had given him shit for not marrying her, so Marina was embarrassed about that.
I’m not sure why this picture is being circulated online, like Patrick is giving the literal Picard Facepalm, because that’s just not what happened. We were all delighted for this young couple, and I know that I was honoured to be part of this moment in their lives. I think it’s likely that Patrick was just wiping sweat off his brow or something like that.
It wasn’t awkward, other than that moment when everyone except the guy had no idea what was going on. Once we knew what was happening, it was awesome. I’m incredibly happy for these people, and I love that I got to be part of what is hopefully a moment they’ll celebrate and remember for the rest of their lives.
Yesterday, Anne and I celebrated our thirteenth wedding anniversary (More like ANNE-N-WIL-IVERSARY AMIRITE?!), so I stayed off the internet for most of the day. However, I got a very sweet e-mail from the young woman who was the proposed, and she said something that I think is pretty awesome:
I just read your comments on Reddit and I wanted to thank you. It was nice to hear your thoughts on it. My fiance proposed to me in front of the TNG cast because of a school girl crush I had on you.Thanks for battling through your flu to be there. It was very special having you and the rest of the cast there. I will cherish the moment forever.
So will I, and I’m sorry I look like a hobo. Also, I like this picture much, much better than the first one. I’ve never seen myself look so happy.
it’s about looking back at those adventures, and remembering the people who had them with you
“I love Stand By Me,” the girl said. “I watch it all the time.” She put a picture of me and River, taken just after Gordie fires the gun behind the diner, on the table in front of me. I smiled at her as I slid it toward myself and spun it around.
“That’s awesome,” I said. “I’m very proud of it.”
I uncapped my pen and asked, “Who is this for?”
“It’s for me,” she said. She couldn’t have been more than 20. Younger than Stand By Me. Younger than Star Trek. Younger than both of my sons. I don’t often feel old, but at that moment, I did.
“…and what’s your name?”
“Jessica.”
“Okay, Jessica,” I said. I dedicated the picture to her, signed my name across Gordie’s t-shirt, and gave it back to her. “Have a great weekend, and thanks for your support of my work.”
She smiled and walked away. While I waited for the next person to come up I took a drink of my water. I was feeling a little sick to my stomach. It was Saturday afternoon, and I would succumb to the flu in about 5 hours.
The next person wanted me to sign something from Big Bang Theory. “Can you write ‘Game over, Moonpie’ on it?”
“I’d love to,” I said.
“I love it when you’re on that show!”
“So do I. I’m really lucky that I get to keep going back.”
He asked me about Jim. Everyone wants to know what he’s really like. “He’s amazing. He’s kind and brilliant and generous and one of the most talented comedic performers I’ve ever known. I’ve learned a lot from working with him. No, he’s nothing like Sheldon.”
I coughed and sanitized my hands for the nth time that day.
A family came up, and asked me to sign their Stand By Me DVD. They’d just showed the movie to their young son for the first time.
“What did you think of it?” I asked him.
“It was good until the end,” he said. I felt his parents tense up, like maybe he was insulting me or something, but I asked him to elaborate. “Because it was a great adventure but then it was all about Chris dying and I just didn’t like that.”
I nodded. “You know, one of the reasons Stand By Me has been so important to so many people for almost thirty years is that it’s different when you watch it at different ages.”
I looked to make sure he was following me. He was, so I continued. “When you’re young, like I was when I made it, it’s about going on an adventure with your friends and finding out who you really are, like what’s important to you when your parents aren’t around. But when you’re a little older, it’s about looking back at those adventures, and remembering the people who you had them with. I bet you’ll like it for different reasons if you watch it again when you’re older.”
“Okay,” he said, in that way kids say “okay” when they don’t want to listen to grown-ups talk about stuff anymore. I smiled and opened up the DVD to take the paper insert out of it.
I can’t remember their names, but I wrote it to them, above Gordie’s head on the left side of the cover. Then I signed my name, and had to choke back an unexpected burst of tears.
I’ve signed tens of thousands of pictures and things over the last 30ish years. Most of those pictures are from projects where I’ve been part of an ensemble cast, like Stand By Me, Star Trek, or Toy Soldiers. When we sign these things, we usually sign near ourselves and leave space for everyone else to sign over themselves. (I can always tell who was first o some pieces, because their signature tends to be huge and across the middle, and the rest of us sort of crowd into smaller and smaller spaces.)
I’ve signed thousands of Stand By Me DVDs over the years, and I’ve signed even more pictures of me and River behind the diner after Gordie shoots the gun. It wasn’t until I had this DVD in my hand, and the thought of remembering people you had adventures with in my head, that I realized I will never have to leave room for River to sign his name on any of them.
He left us twenty years ago. We’re quantum entangled for the rest of my life because of work we did together portraying a friendship that has managed to matter in multiple ways to multiple generations. I don’t think of him as often as some would expect, but when I do, I remember the sixteen or seventeen year-old kid who had his whole life ahead of him, instead of the 23 year-old I hadn’t talked to in five years because our lives were so different.
I blinked hard a couple of times and hoped the nice family in front of me didn’t notice the cloud that had passed over me. I gave them back their DVD, and thanked them for waiting in my line.
They thanked me and walked away. I watched them go, and turned back to see a picture of Wesley Crusher being put in front of me.
in which the lamest excuse in the history of lame excuses is made
I got into Austin just after 11 last night, exhausted and still feeling pretty lousy from the cold I got in Seattle last week.
I made my way to baggage claim and looked for whoever was meeting me from the convention, but didn’t see anyone. There were about half a dozen drivers, but none of them held signs with my name on them. I figured the person meeting me was parking a car or something, and went to the baggage carousel to get my suitcase and box of pictures and books.
While I waited, a couple of different people asked me if I was that guy from The Big Bang Theory. Though I was so tired I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I summoned some extra energy and answered their questions, posed for a couple of pictures, and was grateful that I get to do a job that I not only love, but that people enjoy.
Bags came down the ramp, and while I looked for mine, I also looked around for whoever was supposed to be meeting me. I found the contact number of the guy who was supposed to meet me, and left him a voicemail. “Maybe he’s parking a car or something,” I hoped. Then, “I hope nothing happened to this guy on his way to the airport.”
When I got my suitcase and my box of stuff, I waited for about ten minutes. Still, nothing. So I walked around the whole area, still looking, getting more and more cranky (being exhausted and on the tail end of a really nasty cold will do that to you) until I decided to walk outside, get in a taxi (it was now almost midnight) and just get to the hotel so I could go to sleep.
A little after midnight, I got into my room and got ready for bed. I called Anne to tell her I was safely here, put out my clothes for today, took a shower, and went to sleep.
I had one of those nights where I have incredibly clear dreams that I can’t explain in a way that would make any sense at all to someone who wasn’t in them. The dreams felt upsetting, though. I woke up a few times feeling like I hadn’t slept at all, because in my dreams I was running or struggling to stay on this ramp thing that was sort of like a bobsled and also something from Tron (I told you it wouldn’t make sense).
When my alarm went off, I got up, made some coffee — excuse me, “coffee” — and ordered my breakfast. I derped around on Reddit while I waited for breakfast to arrive, and sipped my “coffee”.
The phone rang, and I thought it was room service delivering breakfast, stymied by the DO NOT DISTURB sign I hung on the door when I went to sleep ten hours earlier. It was someone from the convention, confirming that I was here, and asking when I wanted to meet up to go to the show this afternoon.
I told her that I was here, what time I thought we should meet, and then, “I also have to tell you that there was nobody to meet me at the airport last night, and it made me kind of cranky.”
She told me that a car service was supposed to pick me up, but someone from that car service called her this morning and said — and you’re going to want to sit down for this — that the driver saw me, but that I “ran away from him to get into a taxi.”
I know, right? Now, I can just laugh about it, because it’s so absurd, but about an hour ago, I was furious to hear that.
Look, I’ve raised two kids, and I haven’t heard such a lame bullshit excuse for someone fucking up since they were in middle school. So based on that line, I have to assume this is what happened in the driver’s head:
1. Where is the person I’m supposed to pick up?
2. Oh, there he is! He’s been sitting there with his bags for close to 20 minutes. I’d better not bother him.
3. Hey, he’s calling someone. Yeah, definitely don’t talk to him. That would be rude.
4. Huh. Well, that’s weird. He’s walking around looking for someone. I wonder who? I’ll just wait for him to come over and find me.
5. Maybe I should hold up a thing with his name on it.
6. Nah, that’s silly. He’ll just know that I’m the only driver here with no sign and figure it out!
7. Is … is he going outside? I guess I should do my job now and tell him I’m here to pick him up.
8. Oh, maybe not. He’s slowly walking with sixty pounds of suitcase and box — uh, I mean, running! Yeah! Running! Away from me for some reason and toward the taxi line. I guess he doesn’t need a ride, after all.
9. I am awesome at my job! I can’t wait to tell everyone about this!
Like I said, I can only laugh about it now, but last night? Ohhhhh was I mad. And when I heard the lamest excuse since “my teacher doesn’t want me to use a black pen and that’s all I have so I can’t do my homework tonight I guess I’ll just play video games instead”, I got even more mad. I mean, at least have the decency and respect to own up to making a mistake, instead of inventing a stupid excuse that insults not only my intelligence, but also offends the entire concept of excuse making.
So I told the person on the phone that this story was bullshit. She agreed with me that it seemed awfully strange, and then we both just sort of sat there in silence for a moment. It was like we both needed to process that, yes, an adult person actually said that and expected other adult persons to believe it.
I’m still a little annoyed when I think about it, to be honest, but that’s mostly because I still don’t feel completely well and my already low tolerance for bullshit is taking a -5 penalty. Ultimately, though, it was a minor inconvenience (that wouldn’t even have been a big deal if I wasn’t so tired and not feeling 100% healthy) that ended up giving me a moderately amusing story, so … I turned those lemurs into lemurade.
Mmmm…. lemurade.