Joss Whedon

At my first convention, a Wizard World Chicago affair, Joss Whedon was doing a rare appearance and signing. As one of the biggest fans of "Buffy" and any other Whedony-goodness out there (if you are reading this, Joss, email me. Stop reading the story and email me.), I made a point of highlighting his appearances and stamping them in my mind. He was doing a lecture on the first night of the convention, and you needed a ticket for it. I got into line and, wouldn’t you know it, tickets ran out three people in front of me. I was not pleased. Really not pleased.

Later that evening and about ten minutes before the lecture began, I was in line for a Jeph Loeb signing when the man in front of me stupidly set all of his belongings down on a table and walked away. Those belongings included, oddly enough, two tickets to the Joss Whedon lecture. I thought to myself that the man did not have a wedding ring on (or maybe I didn’t check and told myself that) and therefore didn’t need two tickets to the lecture, so I grabbed one and ran, feeling very guilty, but not guilty enough to put it back.

I raced into the lecture to find it completely packed with most attendees already sitting down. Well, this just wouldn’t do, I told myself, and since I was already heading straight to hell because of the ticket-stealing ordeal, I walked to the front of the auditorium and began to limp and cry.

People asked me what was wrong, and I moaned that someone had kicked me hard in the leg (no one had) and that I was in excruciating pain (I wasn’t). A man tapped me on the shoulder and told me that I could take his seat. Success! I turned to thank the man, and realized it was Marvel President Dan Buckley.

Yeah, crap. I took the seat and began sweating profusely. Luckily it was a great time once Whedon got onstage, making it (mostly) worth it.

I ended up walking around the rest of the convention with a limp in constant fear someone would call me out and I continue to have guilt about it to this day. Perhaps this will serve as amends, or perhaps I will find an email in my inbox Monday titled "That was you!? @$hole!"