Convention Vignettes #2 · 6:37pm Aug 14th, 2018
Day one. I make it to the "Them's Writin' Words" panel five minutes late. From my spot at the back, I can't tell if any of the panelists recognize my battle-jacket. The panel is good, but I'm nervous about what happens after, because it includes two people I've never met in person. One is an Ewan McGregor-looking dude called AShadowOfCygnus, who is arguably my biggest fan. The other is Scribbler, who... is Scribbler.
Part of me wonders if, in one of these two introductions, someone will break down and start resembling this:
* * *
I join the line to sign up for Scribbler's writing contest. As it moves forward, I see a man resembling a very tall Australian Jesus minding the sign-up sheet. Scribbler's fiance. (At this point, she is off to one side, somehow managing to talk to about five people at once.)
As I get close, he catches sight of my jacket. This is what makes the real first impression.
"You must be the famous Reverbrony," I say.
Next thing you know, he and I are talking Metal. I also mention who I am, and how nervous I am to meet Scribbler. He says something to the effect that it will be no trouble, and that he can help once the signing-up is taken care of.
He also says we should swap contact info so we can carry on this conversation later. I now have a new music buddy: the guy who's going to marry Scribbler.
...
* * *
Reverb is still busy for the moment, but a little way off I see a man standing alone, trying and mostly succeeding at containing nervousness. AShadowOfCygnus has noticed me first.
In PMs, he has said he expects our meeting in person to involve stuttering, long silences, and so forth as conversation warms up. That's not good enough for me, so I march up to him as bold as brass and exclaim, "Holy cow! It's Ewan McGregor!"
And with that, the ice is broken.
* * *
Soon Cygnus and I are chatting quite agreeably. At one point I mention that I still haven't been introduced to Scribbler. I admit I'm almost too nervous to go through with it.
"Do you need me to hold your hand?" he says, rather poshly.
Suddenly I think of Zero Punctation, but I don't know why.
* * *
Reverb's work is done, and we are soon chatting again. There is a lull in Scribbler's conversation, and she gets his attention with a very light touch on the arm before turning back away. He answers with the same gesture.
No doubt about it: These two are made for each other.
I can't quite catch his next words, but he nods in my direction. Scribbler turns and follows his gaze toward me. I decide to take the dramatic approach.
I step forward and say, "We meet at last, Scribbler."
But convention badge lanyards have a tendency to get turned around, so from her point of view, this total stranger in an incredibly loud patch-jacket has just greeted her with comic book dialog.
She takes it graciously, politely saying she doesn't recognize me. But she lights up when I turn the badge around.
I'm only able to speak to her for a couple of minutes, but that's enough time to mention our mutual admiration for one another's work... and for me to ask her to sign the horse skull patch on the back of my jacket.
And for the rest of the con, it's:
--"I have I mentioned that Scribbler signed my skull?"
--"Only about a hundred times, Voice."
A thing worth mentioning that many times.
If I met someone who looked like Ewan McGregor, I like to think I would have had the presence of mind to call him Obi Two.
Ha, ha, ha! That's one to tell the grandkids...
You were simply chuffed to bits about this signature.
4919972
Admittedly, this one of the few I haven't heard before.
Shortly before the panel started we were still trying to get hold of Cygnus, but we could only get hold of him when he was in his hotel room with the wi-fi because his phone didn't have international data, so our whole entourage was keeping a sharp lookout for him. We thought we'd spotted him going down an escalator at one point, and nearly started a stampede trying to catch up to the guy, but it turned out to just be Ewan McGregor.
I was disappointed when I found out you meant the skull on your jacket.
4920139
I knew you'd say that.
I don't think she'd sign my actual skull... but M.A. Larson might.
4920090
By the way, don't think I've forgotten about you. My first draft of the top vignette mentioned your part, but since we didn't meet in person until later, I feared readers would feel left hanging if the mention of you wasn't part of the setup for a punchline.
... But tune in next time.