drooling fan boy. Of all the wonderful gifts Gene gave me across the years,
that is one of the most fondly remembered, because I know that without Geneâs intervention
that note never would have been written.
In the years that followed, when weâd be at the same event, WFS ignored me at best, or was
nasty to me at worst. I never understood why, and just came to accept what pretty much
everyone else agreed on: sadly, for whatever reason, he was a jerk who was occasionally nice
to people if it served him. [ 1 ]
WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER and Kate Mulgrew stand between me and my table, talking with some
convention staffers. At the very least, Iâm going to have to say, âexcuse me.â I feel very
uncomfortable, like I have to face the girl I really regret sleeping with.
As I near them, the staffers look up, and smile at me. I smile back, and say, âHey! How
are you guys doing?!â
Everyone returns my greeting, even Kate, who I donât know at all. Never even been
introduced.
WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER, however, is true to form, and says nothing. He wonât even look up
at me. Itâs about what I expected, so I shrug it off, walk around them, and get set up at my
table.
As I pass, I hear Kate ask a staffer, âCould we get some coffee?â
The staffer replies, âSure. Thereâs a coffee cart in the lobby,â and starts to head for
said coffee cart.
WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER stops him before he can get two steps away. âUh, no. What we need
is not just coffee. We need a Starbuckâs run.â
Wow. Youâre a thoughtful guy, Captain. Like this convention staffer isnât
over-worked enough. Good thing thereâs a Starbucks every hundred feet.
Itâs another one of my favorite inner voices: Sarcastic asshole.
I sit at my table, uncap my sharpie, and put on my gameface.
My pen hand is strong. Iâm ready to be witty, charming and friendly. Although the actual
number of autographs Iâve signed over the years is probably close to half a million, I am
ready to make these fans feel like the autograph Iâm currently signing is the only one Iâve
signed all day, maybe the only one Iâve signed in my whole life.
Over the years, Iâve learned something from this experience: itâs never about the
signature. Itâs about that brief moment, that brief encounter with a Star Trek cast member,
that is so important to the fans. That 30 seconds or so of hopefully undivided attention is
what theyâre really paying for, and I always do my best to make sure they get their moneyâs
worth. Contrary to popular belief, sitting at a table signing hundreds of autographs for
several hours without a break is hard. Itâs not just mindlessly scrawling my name; Itâs
stopping and listening to the always excited, sometimes shaking, always sweating, sometimes
scary dude who wants to know exactly why I did âXâ on episode âYâ and would I please sign his
picture in silver, because Marina signed it in gold and now he wants the men in silver and the
women in gold, and I hated your character and here are 25 reasons why and I expect an answer
for each one of them and Iâm not leaving until Iâm satisfied.
The fans come down what amounts to an assembly line, stopping at a table, enjoying their
30 seconds of attention and trading a ticket for an autograph. They move to the next table,
and repeat.
I personally think that this âassembly lineâ method, while the only one that really works,
has the potential to totally suck for the fans.
The first one hundred or so who come through the line will get to see a smiling, effusive,
friendly actor, and will leave feeling happy and satisfied. Those unlucky ones who are at the
end of the line risk seeing actors who are tired, with cramped hands and degraded
signatures.
It is a challenge for me, but I always