Sunday, September 10, 2006


We've all had our brushes with celebrity. I met David Doyle, Bosley from 'Charlie's Angels', while I was working at Golden Corral Family Steakhouse. I was too shy to ask for his autograph, and when I went home and told my mom, she drove me right back there and made me ask him to sign a napkin for me. I don't know where the napkin is today. Accountant Boy met Perry King from 'Riptide' while bagging groceries at BelAir market. You know the guy who plays that guy in 'Ghostbusters II' and 'Wayne's World'? Yeah, I know that guy's dad. My dad plays golf with him. These types of encounters are so commonplace that we've become jaded. We live in California, after all.

But nothing could have prepared me for Las Vegas. You'll never guess who I met in Las Vegas.

O.K., I can't be sure, because I didn't know if it was polite to ask, but I think, I think that this is Kahless the Unforgettable, uniter of the Klingons and their first emperor. Sure, I'd had a few too many sips of the Warp Core Breach at Quark's Bar. Sure, I have a hard time telling the Klingons apart, if you'll forgive me for sounding racist by saying so. But I'm pretty sure this was Kahless, and not the clone.

"I'm gonna go ask for him to take a picture with Belligero the Clown."

"You're what?"

"Look, now that the Andorian's gone to the restroom, I've got a clear shot at him."

"The what went where? Are you drunk???"

"It'll be funny and we'll never forget it for as long as we live and we'll look at the picture and laugh and laugh. Don't bogart the rest of m'drink, 'kay?"

I walked up and asked him if he'd mind my taking his picture, and he said only if I was in the picture, too. He let me grab his bat'leth. I let him make bad double entendres about Jeffries tubes. It was a fair exchange.

Accountant Boy was concerned when I returned to the table. "Did he make a grab for the gals?"

"He's a Klingon, baby, not friggin' Riker chattin' up an Orion slave girl."

"Obviously he's not Riker, 'cause Riker would have tried to slip you the tongue, and I would have had to throw down. Hey, how do you know all of the names of the aliens?" He squinted at me, the realization finally coming to him. "You're a Trekkie? I married a Trekkie? I feel so betrayed and filthy!"

"We'd better get 'nother one of these smokin' drinks..."

Accountant Boy had his own brush with fame. See the guy just to the left of him? No, that's Belligero. Left of Belligero. No, that's a Miller Lite cup. Left of the...yeah, that guy. I think he came in fourth at the Tropicana's pool party belly flop contest. Fourth place! He's practically a superstar. And we were mere feet from him. I'm all tingly just remembering it. A.B. and I often bemoan the loss of cheap, entertaining Vegas. It's all become so commercial and vast. My friends, the cheap entertainment isn't gone. For two bucks a beer, you can sit in a rickety lounge chair by the pool at the Trop and laugh your pants off. Literally, apparently.

Wait a moment, the Woman. Put in the snapshot of me and my old chums Frank and Joey. Oh, we had such good times, chatting and playing baccarat... -- Buddy the Cat

Buddy? Too far, guy. Too far. Our famous encounters were both true. You were never at Yalta. far as you know. -- BtC


weezalana said...

I've never heard of Belligero before, but hey, nice butt crack. ;)

Bezzie said...

Great post!! Sometimes I think when you get married you should have to sign a sort of dork-disclosure prenup sort of thing so Accountant Boy wouldn't have realized you were a Trekkie AFTER the knot was tied! Ha ha!

Batty said...

Awesome! I'm a trekkie too. I was a member of the Star Trek Fan Club in Germany, and still watch Trek at least twice a week.

Live long and prosper, and who knows, maybe Accountant Boy will come to his senses and join the Trek crowd. It would only be logical.