Or, the day Wired met enough whackjobs to write a book.
I really could, you know. But in the interest of space, I will focus on three. One from early evening, one halfway to midnight, and the last just before I got the hell out of dodge.
Some backstory: I did not pre-order a copy of the new Harry Potter. But because I am a total geek (and my friends needed a ride), I went to the Barnes and Noble Harry Potter Bash that began sometime after the sun went down, and would climax with the distribution of the new book at midnight. With me were Su, Janine, and Su’s cousin Ki Jang. Later we met with Natalie and her boyfriend (who’s name I can’t remember). We got to B&N around eight, and the place was already packed with kids dressed up in little robes, hats, and cardboard Griffindor striped ties. A random security guard gave us plastic Harry Potter birth control glasses, which explained why it felt like we stepped into a Revenge of the Nerds marathon.
Revenge of the Nerds is a pretty good description of the first person on my list. Su and I were standing near the graphic novel section of the bookstore, flipping through a copy of Strangers in Paradise and discussing twins Bambi and Tambi when this guy cuts in on our conversation.
“They were members of the assassin’s guild, right?”
Huh? We turned to look at the interloper. If he’d ever straighten out of his hunch, he might be five feet tall. His hair was straight and greasy looking, and his eyes squinted behind thick glasses. He kind of put me in mind of a skinny, nerdy chipmunk–at least until he opened his mouth. Ergh. No self respecting chipmunk would ever do that to themselves. If I had any doubts about his lack of hygiene, that would have killed them off right there. I don’t think he ever brushed his teeth in his life. Ever ever ever. The plaque that framed each tooth was actually whiter (and I use this term loosely) than the teeth themselves. If he’d ever bite someone, I’d hope they were up to date on all their shots, including rabies.
All this may have been forgiven (okay, maybe not the teeth), if he wasn’t so irritating. I won’t go into the entire conversation, but suffice to say it wasn’t pretty. I felt kinda sorry for him, since it was so obvious that he wanted to make friends, but his social skills were nonexistent. And I guess he considered us his new buddies or something, because when we tried to turn away to do our own thing, he got up right next to us to peer into the book and chatter in an ever-growing cloud of halitosis. Finally, I said to Su, “Where’s Janine? We have to find her!” Then we bolted. He actually tried to follow us for a few steps, but then gave up. I saw him later, trying the same shtick on other people, but never stuck around to see how it went.
Ten o’ clock found us sitting on a bench outside the mall, right next to See’s Candies. Barnes and Noble was getting overcrowded, and we all needed a break from the kids and psychos. Natalie smoked a cigarette, and I was drawing the “dark mark” on Janine’s arm when a group of teenage boys walked past us. They were talking loudly, but I was too busy concentrating on getting the ballpoint pen to give a decent line to really pay attention to what they were saying. At least until they were just along side us, and I heard one of them say in that particular cadence of a white boy trying too hard to sound like a “brother”–”You gotta see it. It is the shi-ahz-zell.”
I froze. And they were maybe five steps away from us when the shock wore off and I burst into hysterical laughter. Apparently everyone else had been holding it in, and their control snapped when I started howling. We on the bench were holding on to each other, Natalie standing bent over double, and all of us shaking with laughter when we heard one of the boys saying forlornly, “I think they’re laughing at us.”
Sorry kid. But I’m still laughing.
Midnight finally rolled around, and my feet were killing me. Ki Jang and I sat on a bench outside of B&N, watching the hordes of people filing through the doors. I thought there was going to be some sort of riot in picking up the books, but B&N had a pretty good process set up. If you pre-ordered, when you show up you sign in at a table outside. They look up your name and check it off, and hand you a bracelet with a number on it. The earlier you get there, the better the number. Then, at midnight, they call out the numbers in sets of twenty to go up to the register and pick up your book. It was all fairly organized, although the people who came in just before midnight expecting to be able to grab their book and leave looked pretty pissed off when they saw they were now two thousand-whatever in line, and would have to wait for maybe hours to get their Harry fix.
So Ki Jang and I sat there watching the fun when this extremely fat woman standing near the door began to yell, “Excuse me! Pardon me!” She was facing the bench we were on, and Ki Jang and I looked at each other and wondered if she was talking to us. That was answered quickly when the woman lumbered toward us, her blonde hair bouncing in its ponytail, enormous breasts not so much swaying as sliding out from side to side over her substantial gut under the peach fitted shirt. She halted in front of us, panting. Then she pointed dramatically at the bench and declared, “I have to sit on this bench right now!”
Uh, sure. It was a big bench, and Ki Jang and I slid over to the very end, giving the lion’s share to the woman. After making herself comfortable, the woman turned toward me and began to shout, “What number are you? I got here at six with my husband, and he’s standing in line right now, and I’m number forty-five! What number are you, huh?”
“I didn’t order a book. I’m just here with my friends.” I told the woman, and she looked kind of disappointed. Then she rallied. “Well I’m number forty-five!”
She then proceeded to call out to every person who walked by, demanding to know what their number was, only to triumphantly reveal that she was the lucky carrier of number forty-five. I sat there playing Ms. Pacman on my cell phone, trying to ignore the woman. Ki Jang couldn’t take it anymore and left, ostensibly to check on Su and Janine. I didn’t move, because my feet hurt, and be damned if I let this woman chase me away. Well right after Ki Jang left, the woman put her hands on her knees, leaned forward and ripped out a fart. Holy shit! You know, most people when they have to fart in public, try to be a bit sly about it, coughing or something. Not this woman–she got into farting position, giving her ass lots of space to do its work. She turned to me and grinned. I hunched in tighter around my game and refused to look at her.
Then she got really scary. She started making “choo choo” noises.
She pumped her arms in the air, and rocked in her seat jiggling her fat into a dance. She sang something like, “Choo-choo. Choo-choo-choo-choo-choo-choo. Choo-choo!” Then she turned toward me and said something. But by this time my eyes were fixed on my cell phone, not really seeing it, Ms. Pacman getting eaten by ghosts left and right, my mind centered on one thought: Oh, fuck.
I jerked, and tried not to look directly at her. “Uh, were you talking to me?” She shook her head and said that she was just being weird. What the fuck. Weird does not cut it, lady. Then, because I was looking near her, but not at her, I saw her legs. She was wearing light colored shorts, and for a moment I thought that she had some kind of textured stockings on too. No. Her legs were covered in a thick, wiry black werewolf hair.
Her husband saved me. She saw him come out of the store, and shouted, “You have my book? You have my book! Yay, I got my book everybody!” She leapt out of her seat and did a victory dance like she just scored the winning touchdown, then charged toward her husband. No, I did not get a good look at him. I was still numb.
Ki Jang later apologized for leaving me. He said he couldn’t stand to be near that woman. I told him he missed the show, but be glad because he just saved a fortune in therapy bills.
So ended the Harry Potter Night at Barnes and Noble. I’m getting mine at Costco.
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