ELIZABETH’S MEETING, MAY 8 1998

I met Johnny and Terry Gilliam on their press tour for Fear and Loathing. They did an interview at our radio station and I thought I would pass a picture along to you. Johnny was the nicest guest we have ever had at the station and Terry was constantly cracking jokes and laughing. Along with the souvenir picture, I salvaged one of Johnny’s cigarette butts and have it in a test tube. This is not something I normally do, but hey, you take what you can get.

I knew that there was a possibility that Johnny and Terry Gilliam would stop by the station that evening for the interview, but there was more of a possibility that they would call in or not come by at all. Knowing my luck, it would be the latter. Unfortunately I had spent the previous evening at a local “watering” hole and was suffering the next day from too much “water”. Clad in jeans and a shirt freshly crumpled from the floor, I stumbled into work unprepared for an actual face to face meeting with anyone out of the ordinary. One hour before we were off the air we got the news, from our “Italian connection,” that they were coming by after all. Nervousness set in. No amount of makeup or hair-styling could help me at this point. At least the dirty shirt had aired out.

Terry and Johnny arrived and I was sent to bring them into the studio. What the hell, all I usually get to do is pull music and make bad jokes, maybe put in an order for food. I am totally honest when I say that I am horrible at recognizing people. Also that I wasn’ t really sure what Johnny looked like, because, well…I’m stupid. So, I took the back door out of the studio and headed down the hall to the lobby. The offices were closed so there wasn’t anyone else in the building. I could see a group of people at the end of the hall where it was dark, and then there was a guy walking towards me, heading towards the men’s room. I said, “Hi” and rushed by him wondering what that “deer-in-the-headlights” look was on his face for. When I reached the lobby, I realized that everyone there was either old or female. The guy I passed in the hall and ignored was Johnny. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why am I so stupid?

Johnny came in and introduced himself to everyone in the room and shook hands. I sat in the corner and tried not to drool, rock back and forth and laugh hysterically. During the whole interview, Johnny chain-smoked and I dreamt of days to come where I could sit in a damp basement and roll his cigarettes for him. Hour after hour, day by day. Anyway, after the interview, I was running commercials and Johnny was signing things and taking pictures. I had to get in one of these. So, I left one of the interns at the board and told him which buttons to punch. He looked scared to death. What’s more important, a picture with Johnny or a little dead air? I leaped like a gazelle to the other side of the room and was making my move to stand next to Johnny in the pic and somehow I got caught in a Jedi-body-switch manuver and ended up a person away. Aaack. Oh well. On their way out, Johnny shook my hand and remembered my name. I thought that was very cool. In an equally un-cool move, I grabbed the ashtray and kept a cigarette butt for myself. It is now hanging in a test tube from my ceiling, right next to Mike D’s plastic cup with protein drink residue. On a completely different note, Johnny and Kate broke up the next week. Maybe my impression wasn’t so bad…

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