We're All So Proud of You

I went and saw David Sedaris read on Saturday afternoon. Like the rest of the world, I am a huge fan. He was reading at the bookstore that Graham works at, and so I managed to get in for free. There were over 300 people there to see him, and everyone piled in, laughing and excited, as if they were waiting for their ride on a rollercoaster. Sedaris came in and immediately started engaging with the crowd, signing books for the first row. I felt the surge and panic of people in the room. My friend Jen R., who was hosting the event, immediately went to the mic and asked everyone to stay in their seats, assuring them that Sedaris would be there until every single book was signed. It dissuaded folks for awhile, but people still stood up, anxious to be in contact with him. He then offered up, "If anyone wants to pay me five bucks, I'll sign their books right now!" Which set off a gaggle of ladies waving bills in the air calling: "I've got five!" and then "I've got twenty!"

He read his most recent piece in the Newyorker, titled "Turbulence." We howled. We choked. We guffawed. We were not disappointed. Afterwards he answered a wealth of questions including. "Did you ever find out who was wiping themselves on the towels?" referring to his piece entitled "True Detective." For those of you who read it, yes he did. For those who haven't read it, I shan't spoil it.

Before signing the books he explained how he loves to go on book tours, but thought this time he'd shake it up. In the earlier dates, he brought a trained monkey who stole the show. This time he thought he'd ask for money. His bank card wasn't working, and although he could easily get money elsewhere he thought he'd put it to us folks. He pointed to the basket by his signing station. This was meant to be funny and cute, but I have to admit I found it rather obnoxious. Here's a man who owns a home in both France and England; who's 5 books are all bestsellers; who sells out every venue he shows up at. Maybe it's the fact that I am struggling to buy superglue to keep my car running, but I thought it a little, just a teensy weensy bit self centered to ask people to cough up more money just for sport. I apparently was a minority. People thought it was a gas and gave him money just for being himself. A woman, who had spent $20 to get there, and had bought four of his books, asked me "Oh, do we have to pay him to sign our books?" When I explained to her that he was just asking for it, she said, "OH! I can do that!" She gave him a five dollar bill. At the end of the day, Graham told me he cashed out at over $150.

All this is to say that despite my distaste for this one particular gimmick, it didn't stop me from buying two books and waiting almost FOUR HOURS to have him sign them. When I finally got up face to face, I decided to ask HIM for a favor. I asked him if he could find me a job in New York. People laughed, but he was nonpulsed. He asked me what I did, and when I told him I was a musician, he asked how old I was. When I told him, he said seriously, "You're going to do great there." I almost wept. "REALLY?" I said. "Oh, yeah." he assured me, "Because you know what you're doing. You've played before, you know what you're getting into. Some people go too soon. They go when they're 22, but you're going at the perfect age." He explained that he was 33 when he went, and it was the right thing to do. He signed my book and I was on my way, dizzy with affection--or was it dehydration and hunger? Who knows, I'd been there for 5 and a half hours. When I stepped aside and opened the book, it read: "To Summer, we're all so proud of you, David Sedaris." I laughed out loud and went home to get ready for my show. It was pass the hat and I wasn't ashamed this time to ask for tips.