“Hey, you.”

May 1, 2010

As usual, I should be doing something else. That can only mean it’s time for another update of my blog (insert fireworks here)!

Today, I had the almost immeasurable pleasure of meeting a comedy hero of mine. Dara O’Briain announced on Twitter (@daraobriain) that he was coming to the shopping centre in which I work, to do a book signing. This pleased me greatly, as it allowed me to combine my two passions of reading and comedy. Oh, stalking too. Mustn’t forget that.
Upon finding nobody to go with (I asked one person, who was busy), I decided I would go by myself. I’ve always wanted to go to the cinema or something by myself, but I generally find it too depressing, so I just wait for the DVD and then watch it alone, whilst crying into my ice cream.
As I was clearly keen to meet Dara, I turned up an hour too soon. I wandered half heartedly, all the time with sweaty palms and the constant stress of what I was going to say once I actually met him. Yes, I am aware he is a human being, like everyone else, but when you hold someone in such high esteem, it’s sort of a big deal. And I like to fuck things up with my mouth words, sometimes.
After 30 minutes of pointless wandering, I bit the bullet and went into the shop the event was taking place in. There was already a small queue forming, so I bought my book and dutifully joined the back. (There were some very enthusiastic girls at the front, which was handy. The queue went between two aisles, so I couldn’t actually see the signing table. My first indication Dara was there was from their screams.) (Of excitement, obviously. He wasn’t butchering them.)
As I approached the front, I realised I was probably the only person in the shop, nay, the world, that did not have a camera with them at this point. My reasoning was that I wouldn’t be with anyone, so would have nobody to take the picture. However, I did not think there would be a staff member on hand, to provide such a service. Ah well, I look like a grimacing buffoon on the majority of pictures, so it was maybe a blessing in disguise.
Another shop assistant was meanwhile asking each member of the queue what sort of message they wanted signing into their book. She’d take their name, write it on a Post-It, and stick it inside the book. Probably mind-numbing once you get past fifty or so people.
At this point, I would like to set the scene for you. A few years ago, there used to be a late night game show programme on called Quizmania. There was a female presenter on it called Debbie, who I once swapped a few emails with. If you zoom to modern day nowness, I follow Debbie on Twitter. She @replied Dara, saying she had been taking notes for him during his latest gig. I imagine it was a gig wherein he was trying out new material, needed a hand, and called upon the lovely Debbie. Dara responded to Debbie (this is beginning to sound like a plot in a soap opera), starting with the words, “Hey, you”.
Now, I like to thrust myself in on the business of others. This greeting seemed as though he was quite familiar with her, and I myself would not mind being a close personal friend of Dara. I am sure we would get on famously, we’re both nerds, it’d be fine. So, I @replied Debbie, telling her how jealous I was that she had elicited such a response from the funny man. I’d have been happy to have Debbie reply to me, as I was quite a fan of hers, “back in the day” (Has anyone ever said this in a serious context?).
To my surprise, I instead got a response from the man himself, saying “Consider yourself hey you’d”.
Shazam. Jackpot. Booya, etc.
This made my day. Twitter may be a semi-pointless networking site, but for a few brief seconds, Dara O’Briain was speaking just to me. That made me feel a bit like an apostle.
Back to today. I walked up to Dara, and had a bit of good craic, I think. It went like this:

Dara: How are you, are you well? (His Irish accent makes this sound more exciting that it does on paper.)
Laura: Yeah, I’m well. It’s lovely to meet you.
Dara: It’s a pleasure to meet you too… *opens book and reads Post-It* Laura. It’s quite a weird system we’ve got here.
Laura: Yeah, well, at least everyone knows your name though.
Dara: Yes, but nobody’s writing my name, are they?
Laura: I could, if you wanted.
Dara: *turns book towards me* Would YOU write my name in the book?
Laura: I don’t think that’s quite how this works.

I then asked him if he would mind inscribing it with “Consider yourself hey you’d”, as I’d promised myself I’d get an IRL one someday. He’d already started writing something, then changed it mid sentence, so I’ll never know what he was going to write. Most likely something about pots of gold, or some other mildly racist stereotype (My family is Irish, this joke is therefore allowed).
He asked my Twitter name, probably in an attempt to see if he recognised it. He clearly didn’t, and I felt I should explain my name choice (@SmartieLove) to him. Then I realised it doesn’t take a lot of explanation. I love Smarties.
So, he signs my book, I shake his hand, and he says, “Good luck pet!” in a way that only an Irish man can. As I’m walking away, all I hear is, “Hey, you”.

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4 Responses to ““Hey, you.””

  1. Jack said

    rite moar plz?

  2. laubrau said

    Done and done. Your wish is my command, etc.

  3. Andrew said

    Hey you. (I’ve never liked commas that don’t imply a pause.) (I’ve also never liked people who write “comma” as “coma,” as an aside.) This is why I demanded and belligerently encouraged you to keep writing and update your blog. Self-deprecating, cheeky, mildly pathetic, all the makings of great memoir are here. I believe–in my own, highly verbose way–I just reiterated what @jack said.

  4. laubrau said

    Well, that was a back-handed compliment if I’ve ever received one. Thank you, I think.
    Speaking of blogging more, your last mems and anecs post was done in January ’09. Have you shifted elsewhere? Or, are you retired from the blogging business?

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