The Saga Continues...

After Craig's routine at The Orleans showroom Saturday night, which was, in case I didn't make it clear enough yesterday, well worth the trip to Las Vegas, most of us went out the door and found our places in the lines forming to either buy copies of his book or have the ones we'd already purchased elsewhere signed.

I was relieved to see that there were several other people already in line with copies they'd brought along from home, I didn't feel like as big of a dorkwad as I feared I would. A nice lady stood behind me with her husband hovering nearby. She tried repeatedly to shoo him away, but he wasn't budging. I guess he'd seen the way she'd undoubtedly been making googly eyes at Craig on their television screen late at night. In front of me and to the right was an attractive middle aged lady with a California tan and pretty blonde hair. She was perfectly coiffed and I found myself wishing I looked more like her. I noticed she had a keychain hanging on her purse strap with a picture of her and Craig, faces mooshed together for the camera. Apparently she'd done this before. To her side was a pretty, young girl, about the same age as the Amazon with glasses and a ponytail. She was obviously very excited to be there, her mother standing away from the line, yet keeping a close watch over her. Beyond those two, there stood an older man receiving instructions from his wife who was confined to a wheelchair. She told him that he'd BETTER be sure and pass Craig her note. I leaned over to her and whispered, "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him, I'll make sure."

She patted my forearm, winked at me and said, "You're a good girl."

Soon Craig Ferguson himself came out the door and whipped around to take his seat at the table. I looked around the people in front of me to get a glimpse and thought to myself, "I'm not even a little nervous." Then I turned to the lady behind me and said, "Did you feel that?"

"What?" she asked.

"The estrogen levels in this line just shot up 200%," to which we all had a nice giggle. I was amazed at myself, I wasn't the least bit nervous, I was shmoozing with the other people in line and I was having the best time I'd had since I'd gotten to Vegas.

It was then that I realized that I was still toting my copy of his book in that huge tacky bag from the gift shop. I glanced around looking for a trash can, which I spotted beyond the book purchasing line, beside the escalator. I noticed a normal enough looking man in the other line and got his attention.

"Psst, 'scuse me. Could you toss this in that can over there for me please?" He nodded and I threw the now balled up bag in his direction, which he caught with ease. However, instead of making a three pointer from the line to the can, he opted to step out of line by a few steps to get closer. When he did, three people moved up and took his place.

I winced, I'd cost him his spot. I mouthed a "sorry 'bout that" and turned back to my own position. He wasn't going to let it go though. In his infinite wisdom, he'd decided that I should let him sneak over into the now growing autograph line, in return for his chivalrous act. I let him know that it probably wouldn't be a wise move, he was outnumbered by slightly crazed women readily armed with very hard back editions of Craig's book. His intelligence eventually shined through when he made the choice to close his mouth and head back over to his own line.

It was about this time that a very pleasant young lady began making her way along the line, post-it notes and pen in hand, writing our names down on the notes and sticking them on our books. She explained that it would help move the line faster. When she got to the California beauty with the mooshed face keychain standing in front of me, she asked her name. "Cali's" eyes sort of cut to the side, half closed, she got this strange look on her face and said, "He already KNOWS my name."

Oh shit. Back away. Slooooowly.

I was concerned for the sweetie with the post-it notes. I went into mother bear mode, ready to risk life, limb and position in line if need be to place myself between her and Cali. But post-it note girl stood her ground, remained polite and professional and explained, "Ohhh I understand, but he asks that we do this for every book to help move things along," smiling sweetly as she spoke.

Atta girl.

Cali sighed heavily and proceeded (somewhat angrily I might add) to spell her name. I won't mention it here, I don't need her coming looking for me.

Miss Post-it made her way to me, making small talk. She was a super sweet girl, putting people at ease.

I looked ahead and saw that the young pretty girl was having her picture taken with Craig. I had my camera. I considered it for a moment, even took it out of it's case. Then I remembered standing in front of the mirror in the hotel room earlier trying to take my own picture in the full length mirror, how disgusted I was at the sight of my own piggy looking face and I slipped the camera back inside. I saw Cali taking her turn doing the same thing. I thought.... so she's a little nuts... at least she's pretty.

As the line moved forward, I caught sight of another blonde lady, this one seated behind the table beside Craig Ferguson. As I got closer she looked at me and said, "Put the note on the page you want signed."

"Huh?" I answered.

She looked irritated and repeated herself. "Put the note.. with your name.. on the page you want him to sign."

"Oh." I nodded and started fidgeting with the book.

As I opened it to a blank page, the married woman behind me asked, "Which page is the proper page for having a book autographed?" The lady behind the desk gave her a puzzled look. "I mean, isn't there a certain page you're supposed to have signed?"

Oh my God. NO ONE TOLD ME THERE WERE RULES!!

Now I was listening to the married woman behind me and trying to hear what the lady behind the table told her, all while trying to keep my camera strap and my purse on my shoulder and frantically flipping pages, trying to guess which one was the "right" one. Jesus. DOES IT REALLY MATTER??????

So now the line is inching closer to the table, I thought I'd lost my post-it note all together, then the lady behind the table looked at me and said, "Hold your place in the book."

I was experiencing momentary stress induced stupidity and again, I answered, "Huh?"

"Keep your book open to the page you want signed. Put your finger there." I just knew that in her mind she completed the sentence with "you stupid fucking idiot."

Somehow, I managed to find a page and stick the post-it note on it, hold my place in the book and make my way to the table without puking on someone's shoes or falling into something. Who knew it was so damned complicated to get a book signed?????? Did ya'll know??? YOU COULDA TOLD ME!!!

I approached the table, tried to muster a smile. I wasn't really nervous at all until I caught a glimpse of the table lady from the corner of my eye. That's when it happened. When it did, the table lady released a sigh of disgust and said, "You moved your finger, (this time she didn't wait for me to say "huh?") lost your place in the book." I looked at her, looked at Craig.

Oh God.

"I'm sorry." Now I'm frantically flipping through what seems like War and Peace, when actually it was really only a few pages. I found my place and opened the book, sliding it across the table. He looked so... annoyed. I stood there like a dolt until he'd signed it, managed a thank you, tried to muster a smile that just would NOT emerge.

He politely answered me with "You're welcome."

In the seconds that followed, my head was screaming "Flee you fool!!!! Back to your cave!!! WADDLE LIKE THE WIND!!!!!

Which I did. I made my way through the casino, trying to get as far away from there as possible.

I made the decision to go back to my room and get my mental shit together after I realized how pathetic I must have looked wandering around the casino clutching his book.

See? There's good reason why I live in a trailer tucked so far back in the mountains that the only people I see are people I'm in some way related to.

At least I accomplished this much. Let's just hope that someday I can look at it and not wince, remembering how pathetic I was.

Tomorrow, as promised, there will be the story of the drag queen, two mobsters and a celebrity head-on collision.

Stay tuned, it does get better, I promise.