Meeting Marc Maron and Birthdays of Long Ago

Today's my Birthday. The celebration is looking a lot different than years past. The last couple I've rallied my best friends together to go see Marc Maron. By some stroke of dumb luck he had been in Minneapolis, in September, two years in a row. The first of which was a couple weeks out from my birthday and is when the blog below was written. Re-posting it now in some sort of existential nostalgic crisis for a time when a birthday meant going out with friends, to restaurants and live events, without a second thought. Not ordering in and streaming a movie. Maybe a virtual drinking night if anyone was feeling particularly brave enough to attempt a drunken zoom call when the sober ones rarely go that swimmingly. In all honesty for an anxious introvert like me a day spent in sounds like the Holy Grail of birthdays. But when I came across this old post, I got reminiscent. I miss working and getting to be around live events on a regular basis. I miss just going to these events as a fan.

So go back with me. Way back to 2018. I was the tender age of 35. Too young and stupid to know better, I did what I often do. I inevitably made an ass of myself. Now so much older and wiser on this the day of my 37th birthday I have learned the errors of my ways. First think before you do, no matter how much whiskey may allegedly be involved. And Second never meet your idols. You’ll only disappoint them. I hope you enjoy the story of my little misadventure of meeting the one, the only, Marc Maron.

Originally posted September 9th 2018 - “Meeting Maron a Short Story”

It's a Friday fall night and we're at Acme Comedy Co. The show ends. The lights go up. We make our way towards the exit and I get in the coveted line for the bathroom. Moments later there’s an arm around my shoulder and a familiar voice whispering in my ear asking how badly I needed to be in this line... because Maron is in the bar. Mostly because I’m curious but partly because I’m impressed (it’s one of the first times she hasn’t called him Mike Myron) I slip right out of my spot in line… the only movement the line has seen in five minutes… I was expecting rapturous applause but got none…whatever… A minute later we are in a new line in the bar leading right to the man himself. I thought my friend was going up first so then I’d have a minute to compose myself. To figure out why the hell I was standing there when I didn’t know what it is you’re supposed to say or do in this situation. I didn’t even have anything to be signed, not even a ticket stub. All of this was just dawning on me when it happened. She turned around suddenly, arms sprawled out like she was revealing something extraordinary and said, what seemed loudly at the time, “This is my friend *****” (name has been redacted to protect my identity… just go with it). The voice in my head immediately breaks into “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!! This is a mistake!! Abort!! I thought we were going to act like normal people!! I thought we were going to play it cool!! This is not normal! This is not cool!” Instead I get this weird fucking Vanna White introduction like I’m being announced at a debutante ball to someone who couldn’t care less. She continues to go on about how it’s my birthday and all I could think was “Don’t lie to Marc Maron, why are you lying to Marc Maron!! My birthday is 2 weeks away!!” One old fashioned, and a couple (okay, four) shots that were 99 of something and I had apparently forgotten we were, in fact, at this show as an early birthday celebration. But awkward buzzed me couldn’t think of anything else to say except excessive denials of this said "birthday". I stood there hoping for my other friend to walk up and diffuse how truly heinously awkward this all became so quickly, but he lingered in his spot avoiding any eye contact. I can’t blame him, but it was in that moment I could see he decided... he didn't know us.

At one point I think I actually tried to slowly back away. Like in an interaction of only 3 people no one would notice one of them just starting to back-step her way out of there. Understandably, just wanting to move everything along, Maron asked what the hell we wanted (like 100% sure that’s NOT how he said it but go with it please. He was perfectly polite; more patient than we deserved. It just makes me feel better if we were awkward and he was kind of a dick. Like we’re even somehow. Though that’s not true, let me have this) So anyway, that's how I got my picture with Marc Maron. When he asked what was going on, I think my friend just yelled “Picture!!” at him. I moved forward; in my earlier attempt to escape I only managed to moonwalk away like 2 inches. She took the picture and we ran away like children who had stolen some candy from a store instead of two grown ass adults who had just stolen another grown ass adult’s time and patience. My friend the traitor, Mr. “didn’t know us” realized it was his turn. He looked up at Maron, waved from his spot, said “Hi”, dropped his head and walked away. Oh yea. We all brought our A game. In all it did turn out to be a pretty awesome “not birthday”. Fantastic show. Hilarious from start to finish. Maron was amazing, but that goes without saying.

*Side Note: Thank you “Vanna” … All kidding aside it’s because of friends like you that we don’t miss out on things in life, even the slightly awkward ones. I would have been disappointed if we hadn’t even tried and if you hadn’t been there that’s exactly what would have happened. And to anyone who took the time to read all this... if you have a friend who ever introduces you like you're something extraordinary, well… you’re pretty lucky to have someone so awesome in your corner.

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