In Which the Author Proves the Full Extent of Her Nerdliness

Last Friday, at ye local purveyor of books, Messrs Barnes and Noble played host to one of my favorite actors, Simon Pegg. You may remember him from such films as “Shaun of the Dead,” “Hot Fuzz,” and most recently, the grown up version of E.T. “Paul.” He was visiting the book store to promote his new biography, “Nerd Do Well.” Now, normally I am not a fan of the celebrity biography. Or regular biographies. Histories I like, but only when they’re written in the style of a sweeping epic fiction novel.

To be honest, the only part of Simon Pegg’s biography I’ve read since purchasing it five days ago was the few chapters I took in while waiting in line during the signing. No offense to Mr. Pegg, but the book was the equivalent of all that chocolate the little children ate in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” to try to meet Willy Wonka.

I purposely went by myself to the book signing, and I’ll tell you why. Having lived in Los Angeles for almost six years now, I’ve gotten used to running into Orlando Bloom at a breakfast place on La Brea or the guy who played Hiro from Heroes in West Hollywood. Celebrities are typically very boring, shorter versions of the people they play in the movies or on television. Except for when they’re your nerd hero. In that case, they are not boring at all, and in fact make you act like Renfield from Dracula. For those of you unfamiliar with this character, Renfield used to serve Dracula with undying devotion and later ate bugs. I did not do this when I finally met Simon Pegg, but there were a few minutes as I approached his table where I thought I might puke on myself.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. I’ve gone to a few of these book signings before. Basically you show up early, stand around for an hour or so, then spend five minutes oggling at the celebrity/writer in question before you are herded towards the front, someone slaps a book with your name written on a post-it note onto a table, and the celebrity/writer endeavors to make small talk with you in the time it takes them to sign your and their name and whatever witticism they choose to grace you with.

I arrived for the Simon Pegg signing about an hour and a half before he was supposed to come on the scene. The geeks, dweebs, nerds, and spazzes were all lined up in numbers. I’m very sorry to say it, but these were some of the least attractive people I have ever seen. I spend so much time trying to convince the “normals” that nerds can be attractive, functioning people, too. Unfortunately, none of those people decided to show up to the book-signing that night. There were a few normals mixed into the crowd, including one of the lovely accountants from another Disney show who I recognized. Still, this was definitely one of those situations where I felt out-nerded by the masses. There were girls giving him fan art. If you don’t know what that is, you’re probably too cool to be reading my blog.

At long last, Mr. Pegg arrived on the scene. Like always, he was shorter in real life. Most of all, he looked very normal. Like a normal dude I might run into walking around England. When the press started flashing his photo, he seemed rather pained to be standing there, holding a copy of his book. Not angry, or obnoxious or anything bad. He seems the sort that when he says he’s not doing this for the publicity and fame, you actually believe him. I was instantly charmed.

Back to the part where I was standing five feet from him and thought I might faint or hurl. The regimental bookstore employee passed my book over to the table and I shuffled forward, my mind blank. I was a writer dammit! Where was my banter? My hilarious quips? But every ounce of cleverness had evaporated into the ether.

The scenario went a little like this.

Simon Pegg: Hello, Amanda. Thank you for coming.
Me: Thank you for coming….. I like your hat.
Simon Pegg: Thank you.
Me: I’m sorry. I tried to think of something clever to say, but I couldn’t.
Simon Pegg: (Charmingly disarming) I’m going to tell you a secret about this hat. I’m only going to share it with you. It’s a Canadian hat.
Me: (Swooning) Your secret is safe with me.

Then we talked for two seconds about Vancouver and Mission Impossible:4 and then he shook my hand and it was all over. I walked away, clutching the autographed book like it was a notebook doodled with hearts. So thank you, Simon Pegg, wherever you are, for making this nerd feel even if just for a few moments, that I was a little cooler than I really am.