What Now

Well, I didn't get to meet William Shatner. Somehow, I thought that would wind up bothering me more than it actually does. The girl who was assigned to be his "handler" while he was in our care was happy to announce that he was an ass. I thought she meant his people were hard to work with, but no, it was Mr. Shatner. Apparently he was hoping to fly in right before the event and then leave the minute it was over, but with the amount of money we paid him (basically the equivalent of 3 1/2 years of my salary - if they didn't take out taxes or anything else at all) he was persuaded to at least spend the night at an embarrassingly expensive suite at the new Embassy Suites hotel (that we paid for). When he was picked up by Jennifer, the SpRocket woman who was his "handler" and our Marketing VP, he made them sit in the limo and wait an hour for him to test drive a BMW at the Huntsville dealership, where he knew the owner. He also couldn't be bothered to have dinner at the event or even sit out in the audience. He sat backstage with a security guard and didn't talk to anyone. There was one point where, if I were a completely different person and didn't mind getting fired, I could have walked up to him and introduced myself, but I realized that A) I am not that brave, B) I didn't want to get fired, and C) I wanted the keep the idea of Mr. Shatner being much nicer than I found out he was. So I just peaked around a corner at him and went back to my seat.

Other than that, the evening went rather smoothly, albeit with a couple of snafus on my part. I had a terrible headache when I went to the run through that morning, and I'm pretty sure that the VP thought I was pouting about having to wear a flightsuit. I had already resigned myself to that fact, so it no longer bothered me. Of course, it bothered me that she thought that's what was wrong, but my head hurt too much for me to do anything about it. I received my flight suit, and someone from camp let me borrow their military boots. I didn't know who they belonged to, so I was distinctly grossed out that I was wearing someone else's shoes. I felt like a tool. I was told that I looked "Soooooo adorable" and that reminded me how much I hate being condescended to. I didn't ride the bus with some of the other helpers, because I didn't know if I would be staying throughout the whole thing, and when I tried to park, I was told I had to pay. I was not aware that I had to, since I was working. In fact, I was told that we didn't have to, but they wouldn't let me stay. I was pissed. There I was, in a dang flight suit, speeding through the streets of Huntsville trying to find an ATM so I could pay to park at an event I was working at. I almost had to go all the way home before I found a place that I knew had an ATM. If you ever want to be the center of attention, go to a Kroger dressed like an astronaut. So I finally got back, 1/2 an hour late, and paid my stupid fee to park. The second I walked in, I was surrounded by people dressed in cocktail dresses and tuxes, so yeah, I felt sexy. At any rate, by the time things got going, I didn't care anymore about what I was wearing. I pasted on my customer service smile and turned on the smarm! Nah, I was charming. It was kind of fun once things got started. I talked to a bunch of town big wigs, was interviewed for some kind of newsletter by a NASA employee, and got to do my Joan Rivers red carpet fashion police interviews in my head. Oh, but to have been able to say some of it out loud! There was a lot of cleavage in that room. A lot. It forcefully reminded that Huntsville doesn't have a large population of people who have had plastic surgery. Eeeeeeeeeeesh. I finally resigned myself to sit down and eat. Thankfully they had me sit in the farthermost table in the back, because they knew how I'd feel in the middle of all of the dressed up people. I still felt dumb, but there was no excuse for me not to eat since my job of the night was finished. Wow, if I had paid the full ticket price for the event, I would have been piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed at the dinner we got. Since mine was free, I said nothing. Here is an artist's rendering of what was on the plate:

The brown thing is a filet mignon, which wasn't bad. The orange thing was some kind of mummified baked carrot that I wasn't sure if we were supposed to eat, or if it was just garnish. The tan things were two halves of a red-skinned potato. Not two potatoes, but one potato cut in half. The green things were tiny zucchinis sliced so that they could be fanned out. The yellow thing was a shrimp. Once shrimp. It wasn't even a good shrimp. Behold. This is what a $150 dinner looks like. Take me to McDonald's any day. You can call me uneducated and unrefined, but you can also bite me. Trust me, biting me would be more filling than the dinner, and I wouldn't even charge you the whole $150!

The ceremony turned out so well. I was amazed at the people who were inducted into the Space Camp Hall of Fame. They were so interesting and they have done so much. Shatner was funny and charming and a great MC, even if in real life he's somewhat of a butthead. I hate that you had to miss it. You know who I'm talking to. I think Mr. Shatner realized that he was in the presence of actual space heroes, astronauts and scientists, so he was also in awe of them. I think he was genuinely impressed. Our CEO, a former Army General and Mr. Shatner didn't seem to like each other much. They traded thinly veiled barbs as they took turns at the podium. Had they been younger, less aware of their appearance in front of a crowd, and in a parking lot instead of a fancy-pants event, I think they would have wound up beating the hell out of each other. That would have been precious! : ) At the end of the event, William Shatner ran off of the stage as we were asked to give him one more round of applause, but they had to go and get him again because the Mayor was there to give him the key to the city and a flag that had been flown aboard one of the space shuttles.

All in all, it was a nice event and I'm glad I got to be a part of it. After it was over, though, I was glad to leave. I pulled the top down on Lois and drove away into the warm evening singing "The Joker" at the top of my lungs. I recommend that as a great way to end any evening.