tony tony tony or: my most triumphant hour

This isn't going to be very eloquent or classy, but I've got to get it out of me.  

I've been close to shitting myself ever since I found out Anthony Bourdain was coming to UNL for a book signing.  I bought tickets the same day I saw the poster, and for the next three weeks or so I was going through various stages of euphoric anxiety, desperation, and arousal.  

I showed up at 6:00 when the show started at 7:30, because a friend-of-friend relayed that a line was forming already.  I'd intended to meet up with one of four groups of people who were going, but one of the groups couldn't get last-minute tickets, and when I made a mad dash for a front-row, center seat, I wasn't moving for anybody.  

He gave a roughly 2-hour speech about his job and his philosophies, with a vaguely embarrassing Q&A, and the packed auditorium laughed uproariously and fawned unabashedly.  I was seated directly in front of him the whole time.  As I told Jennifer: "If I'd have stood up, I could have fellated him."  I'm sorry for having said/written that, but it is illustrative.  

I waited in line, clutching my Les Halles cookbook, for around an hour.  I was killing myself over having forgotten my camera, but in a sweet turn of fate a former co-worker was in line next to me, and offered to take the photo and send it to me.  

My turn at his table was very literally like dreaming, my mind went on auto-pilot as I approached and was greeted by one of my biggest heroes and crushes.  I said, "Hello, Mr. Bourdain."  I handed him my book, and he asked me to whom he should inscribe it.  I said, "Sarah with an 'h,' please," then asked if I could have a photo.  As I scooted next to him behind the table, my hand slipped into my purse to my secret weapon, and I asked, "Would you like some bourbon?"  He didn't hesitate in the slightest: "Yes."  I slid my flask of Maker's Mark to him, and he made to grab a cup or something to put it in, then decided to just drink from the flask while everybody hooted and snapped photos.  He laughed and said "Thank you!" and I thanked him and told him to have a good night.  As I floated away, an angry UPC supervisor was yelling "Can we not do that?!" over and over, but I didn't care, it didn't matter, and I took a hearty swig of sweet whiskey, covert mission accomplished.  

   

I couldn't have imagined a more perfect encounter with someone I truly admire.  I haven't been able to stop smiling.