Monday, March 7, 2016

Klingon Babysitter

Thank you to everyone who stopped by our table at Central PA Comic Con this weekend.  We had a blast!  We brought cats, pins, and comics.   

By the way, you can still order a copy of Oh Hell, Donna! Volume One, and I’ll still sign it on request.  Over 100 pages for $30.  Simply email me at with your zip code, and I’ll send an invoice your way.  Eventually, we’ll have an easy-to-order-from website…  I promise.

In any case, the convention had plenty of Star Trek cosplayers, which (once again) reminded me of that time I had a Klingon for a babysitter.  What?  Have I not mentioned this to you before?  Well, Dear Reader, have a seat. 

A thousand years ago, Vegas still had The Star Trek Experience, and it was the greatest thing of all time.

I’m a sucker for immersive things.  Like, between an action figure or a replica prop, I’ll take the prop every time.  Rides like the Haunted Mansion have a huge place in my heart for that same reason.  The Star Trek Experience did the same thing. 

Even when not on the “ride” itself, there was a museum to walk through.  The props and costumes were treated as true artifacts, as though the shows were historic documents from the future. 

Whew.  Got a little Galaxy Quest there.

Considering how few things Vegas has to offer a small child, I was still wandering around the casinos frequently enough.  My father’s family could be found in Nevada, so this meant even a 14 year old me got to see and meet The Amazing Johnathan…

Actually, I’m not gonna post about that separately.  You’re gonna get that story right now because I’m still entertained by how that went down.

For those not in the know, The Amazing Johnathan is a slightly morbid comedian/magician.  (  At one point during the show, he pointed to me and asked that I show my boobs.  I was, you know, 14 years old and with my parents, and I don’t think I would have done it anyway.  We all laughed…

And after the show, I ran up to him to sign something for me and get a photo. 

We had a few moments of him spelling my name incorrectly like three times, to which I responded, “You can call me Susan, for all I give a damn.” 

He looked at me, realized I was the girl he had pointed to, and when I related my age, his wife LAUGHED SO HARD at his horrified expression.  My parents figured it was all in good fun (which in retrospect is a little funky, but whatever) and I later on cut everyone out of the photo we took so it would just be me and my hero. 

SO.  Star Trek!  Back to WAY BEFORE THAT.  I was… 9?  Maybe?  Which meant there was even LESS for me to do in freaking Las Vegas. 

I was very young and small, and therefore not allowed to be on the actual gambling floor.  Anywhere the red carpet was laid, I was not to step.  This was in conflict, as my father wanted to play games.  

I have no idea where the rest of my family was hiding.

Luckily, my dad is a problem solver.  He called a man dressed as a Klingon over to watch me for “a minute.”  Total stranger.  Dressed as a Klingon.  Hopefully worked there.  A+ parenting. 

Thing is, as a child, I had no concept of costumes.  I didn’t even understand that re-runs were a thing, so from my perspective, Kirk and Picard were both current captains, William Shatner was younger than my father, and this WAS a Klingon standing before me.  

I’ll give him points too.  This guy managed to keep me entertained, stay in character AND not scare the piss out of me. 

I remember a very vivid scene of wandering down a hallway as he explained some of the displays.  

He stopped at one display “of his people” that he found upsetting, due to the tribble present by his ancestor’s feet.  “We do not like tribbles, and tribbles hate us in return.” 

Now considering that I didn’t speak much as a child, it’s pretty neat that I looked at this mountain of a man and said, “I like you, but I have a tribble at home.  We keep her in a cage though so she won’t get out.”

After processing that this wasn’t a child-game and that I was dead serious, he continued the conversation very carefully, trying to figure out what the fuck I actually had in a cage at home. 

Guinea pig.

It was a guinea pig. 

And this guy?  He was right on top of that.  “Ah yes.  You hold captive the ancestor of the tribble.  The ancient guinea pig is not quite as bad, but close.” 

I remember nodding with a stern gaze, as though to say, “Yes, my brother.  I understand.” 

We wandered pretty far…   I assume he must have just taken me back the way we came, because we didn’t go on the ride together.  

Dad seemed pleased that I was fine.  I’d like to the think he tipped the Klingon man.  I also hope the guy got a raise, or an acting gig. 

So.  That’s the time I had a Klingon babysitter.

I ever tell you about the topless show I was too young to get into but saw it anyway?

What happens in Vegas…

Winds up on this blog.


OH HOLY SHIT I forgot.

Hold on.


The convention I was at this weekend?  
Speaking of Star Trek…

I pooped next to Uhura!

…That needs clarification.

Nichelle Nichols was in the bathroom at the same time I was in the bathroom. 

I waved at her and she smiled.  Hopefully I wasn’t too crazed- wide-eyed.

After she left, I turned to the girl who was behind me, pointed at the door and exclaimed, “That was Uhura!” …but the girl was unimpressed and/or thought I was a lunatic.  

Like, you know in Invader Zim, that face Dib makes when he’s happy and pointing, waiting for someone else to SEE the thing?  That was my face. 

So, yeah.   Star Trek has been a pretty big part of my life, I guess.