The words I honestly sputtered in panic to Phedre while in line to meet Wil Wheaton today at Origins Game Fair:
“Oh crap! We are close! I’m going to have to talk to him. What am I supposed to say to him? I’m going to say something weird and socially awkward. He’s going to look at me like I’m a spaz. What if he comments about my scarf. What if he wants my scarf? I’ll give it to him. For free. Hell, I’ll give him the scarf and $20. I’d stand there smiling if he set it on fire. Crap, now we’re closer. WHAT WILL I SAY?! Oh look! I can buy his book. Problem solved!”
Luckily I didn’t panic (too much) and he actually complimented my scarf. There is a picture Phedre took of us talking. He complimented the scarf, I looked like I was about to hurl in excitement. As I have explained to many people, getting accolades for your craftsmanship is a heart warming moment. Wil Wheaton praise? HEART ATTACK MOMENT.
I fear my idol worship is spiraling out of control.
PS I wrote this out Sunday and I can’t find a way to make this sound like I’m not a drooling nutbag. This is the exact reason I shouldn’t meet people I admire. I’ll just sputter out half a word and then be convinced that we are going to best friends forever.