Now I've had the opportunity to meet all sorts of authors. The kind I tend to read especially. But I made no greater fool of myself than the time I forced my company on Chuck Klosterman. At a sales convention (for books), I was headed towards my room when I see no other than Klosterman attempting entry into his own room. As would be expected, I essentially rape his personal space forcing myself into an impromptu discussion of his oldest book at the time he was promoting his first entry into fiction--about which I admitted to him that I had not read nor purchased.
This trainwreck continued as he continued to try and unlock the door only to admit defeat and suggest that he had the wrong room. At the very least he escaped despite my dreams...he was supposed to recognize that I wasn't like the other fans. I'm a little unique sunflower that would totally buy him a drink just to espouse like on ideas for hours. Nope he rejected and escaped.
It didn't matter. The next day, during the conference proper, I still forced a book into his hands at a chance encounter demanding/asking for the signature bit. He obliged and walked away. Now, a few years later what I have left is a reminder of how awkward I was to him and a dream deferred in misery/eliminated.
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