soufre-de-paris:

inyri:

A Story
(about the time I met Carrie Fisher)

I know I told this, sort of, in August at the time that it happened, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot today.

I was working at Wizard World Chicago in August 2016, so I had some extra money to spend as I was on an exhibitor pass. I couldn’t pass up a Carrie Fisher autograph so I bought a ticket, but I waited too long and ended up in group B on Saturday afternoon. 

Group B was supposed to start at 5:00 PM. I got in line at 4:30 and waited. And waited. And waited. The convention floor closed at 7 PM; I (hi, line friends) waited. She’d been signing autographs, more or less, since 10 AM. We could see Gary next to her, his tongue sticking out. 

I got to the front of the line at around eight o’clock at night. I was tired; I’d been working the booth all day and perpetual cheerfulness is exhausting. I can only imagine how tired she must have been. “No personalizations,” said the assistant as I handed her the book I’d brought to have signed, which I understood (I was the front of Group B, and there were easily another fifty people at least behind me). 

A minute later, I was standing in front of Carrie Fisher. I’m pretty sure, being a creature of vast social awkwardness, I made a stupid joke about being on the wrong side (I was wearing my Imperial Officer uniform). 

She looked up at me, opened the book, and said, “They’re trying to stymie me. I will not be stymied. Who would you like this made out to?”

I will not be stymied. A life in five words, and all I can say is that I’m so, so very glad I stayed in line.

As far as life mottos go, you can do a lot worse than “I will not be stymied.”