Dancing Barefoot Read Online Free PDF Page B

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 Gene’s intervention
     that note never would have been written.
    In the years that followed, when we’d 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, I’m going to have to say, “excuse me.” 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, “Hey! How
     are you guys doing?!”
    Everyone returns my greeting, even Kate, who I don’t know at all. Never even been
     introduced.
    WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER, however, is true to form, and says nothing. He won’t even look up
     at me. It’s 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, “Could we get some coffee?”
    The staffer replies, “Sure. There’s a coffee cart in the lobby,” and starts to head for
     said coffee cart.
    WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER stops him before he can get two steps away. “Uh, no. What we need
     is not just coffee. We need a Starbuck’s run.”
    Wow. You’re a thoughtful guy, Captain. Like this convention staffer isn’t
     over-worked enough. Good thing there’s a Starbucks every hundred feet.
    It’s 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. I’m ready to be witty, charming and friendly. Although the actual
     number of autographs I’ve signed over the years is probably close to half a million, I am
     ready to make these fans feel like the autograph I’m currently signing is the only one I’ve
     signed all day, maybe the only one I’ve signed in my whole life.
    Over the years, I’ve learned something from this experience: it’s never about the
     signature. It’s 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 they’re really paying for, and I always do my best to make sure they get their money’s
     worth. Contrary to popular belief, sitting at a table signing hundreds of autographs for
     several hours without a break is hard. It’s not just mindlessly scrawling my name; It’s
     stopping and listening to the always excited, sometimes shaking, always sweating, sometimes
     scary dude who wants to know exactly why I did “X” on episode “Y” 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 I’m not leaving until I’m 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 “assembly line” 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