My Weekend with Misha Collins, Part 3
Day Three was supposed to start out mellow. It did. Kinda. Misha wasn’t supposed to be at his table until the afternoon because he had his panel, then his photo-op, and ending the day/weekend with a signing. Since I was there early, I decided I was going to get Gillian Anderson’s autograph for my sister and Felicia Day’s for myself. Seeing as Gillian was conveniently located three tables down from Misha’s, I thought I would start out there since she was going to start signing before Felicia and I didn’t know whether she was going to stay. So I stood in Gillian’s line. She got there a half-hour late, but her line moved quickly so as soon as I said a quick hello and got the autograph, I raced down and over to the area where Felicia was. I got there: the line was capped. The people in charge of the line told me she would be back in the afternoon, but I had to be with Misha at the time. Blast! I later found out that Gillian did another signing. Harrumph.
I got back to Misha’s table and discovered his panel hadn’t even started yet. Well, why don’t I just go to that? His panel was literally right behind his table, so it was super close. I walked in and the people in the room let me sit down rather close to the stage. The perks of being Misha’s girl. So the panel started and he was hilarious (of course) and the panel was going great. Until the fan questions. I think the third or fourth person brought up Dean/Castiel and there was a groan through the room. Really? Why would you talk to an actor about the fans’ desire to see his character and his friend’s character start a physical relationship? It’s creepy. But he handled their questions well and point-blank told the fans that no, he did not want there to be a relationship. Mainly because it doesn’t make sense for the show. I have since seen a few (read: a season) episodes and I agree there’s a bond between those two characters, but I think it’s built off something different than sexual attraction.
Anyway, it got weird and awkward but he was still funny as hell. As soon as it ended, I walked over to where he was going to get off the stage and greeted him. He smiled and said hello. Once we were in the back, there was a gaggle of people who talked to him (I had no idea who they were or why they were back there). The moderator got a picture with him and wanted his autograph, so I went to his table to get a picture for him to sign. I step out behind the curtain and there’s a HUGE line of people. Oh, crap. I grab the picture, tell his handler I’ll be right back with him, and return to him with the picture and the news.
Of course, he dawdles. His handler had to go in the back to retrieve him and, after a few more minutes of talking, he finally steps out. And he signs. And he signs. We try to get him through the line as quickly as possible since we want him to have a break before his photo-op. Turns out, that doesn’t really happen. He needs to run to the restroom again, so we pause the line so I can take him. As we’re walking, I ask him if he’s been able to see the city. He tells me not really, but he did go for a run the previous morning. I reply that I wish I was a runner, as my grandmother is a big advocate of that form of exercise. He tells me that it’s not the easiest thing to jump into. I say, “I dance. That’s how I get my exercise, I guess.”
“Oh, really? What kind of dancing?” he asks.
“Swing.”
“I’ve always wanted to learn!” he remarks.
“Well, I could give you a lesson…”
He laughs. “If there’s time, yes.”
Yes! But then I think, we probably won’t get the time…
After his restroom break, he decides he wants to talk five and eat some food, so I return to the table and chat with the fans while we’re waiting. His handler goes to get him and he returns to crank out the signings before his photo-op. And we do really well. I keep trying to push people along. About five minutes before his photo-op, I push the last few people through and then we’re done! No one has to wait, thank goodness. We’re getting ready to leave when a bunch of teens approach. He knows them our their aunt somehow, but they start talking, and his handler and I are trying to get him out of there. One does not simply delay the ComiCon photographer (insert Sean Bean meme here). He tells his fans/friends that he has to go to his next thing, and they reply that they’re going down there, too and they’ll see him them. To which he replies, “Oh, just come with us, then!” His handler and I share looks of exasperation. “Misha, you’re going to get me trouble,” she tells him.
So they come behind the table and tag along. Ugh. As we’re walking through, who do we run into but Felicia Day! I just want to say hi to her, so I do, but the girl in Misha’s fanclub asks to take a picture. “No!” her handler responds. “We have to get to her panel.” So we continue on. As we’re in the elevator, I comment on how I tried to get to her line, but it was already capped. “Oh, we were supposed to go down there!” Misha comments. The fact that he remembered made it all better.
We get down to the photo-op room and Wil Wheaton is just finishing up his photo-op and apparently there are at least two more people in front of Misha. Turns out a certain superstar delayed the line because he had a discussion about space with a real astronaut. And this delay is ok because it was Patrick Freaking Stewart who was the star in question. Oh to have been in earshot of the conversation…
We stand and wait for a few minutes before I realize: this is the perfect opportunity to teach Misha how to swing dance! “Hey, Misha,” I say nonchalantly. “How about that swing lesson?”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” he replies.
So, I teach Misha the basic swing steps. Curse my cold hands, but I look up at him and he’s close and his eyes are gorgeous and dark blue and…somehow I maintain control of my faculties. But now I can say I have danced with Misha Collins, because he spun me and everything. He quit rather quickly, even though he caught on amazingly fast. I think it was because people were watching. I really wish someone had videotaped it…
His next agenda is to walk the show floor. At first I think “Disaster!” and then I think “Fun! I get to play bodyguard!” So, his handler gives her number to one of the people at the photo-op and tells her to call/text us when he’s up. We walk out and the room erupts. His fans are lining the walkway and everyone is cheering/screaming/crying/flailing/taking pictures/getting video and his handler and I are on either side of him. His little annoying entourage is close on our heels.
Once we’re out on the floor, it’s madness. People are everywhere; thankfully not many recognize him so we’re safe to walk around. The only trouble is navigating through the crowd. His handler wants me to stay on his other side, but it’s so crowded it’s hard to walk three abreast. I end up walking behind him, but his arm is swinging so he keeps hitting me. I have to keep my arm up so he doesn’t keep unwittingly punching me.
I’m walking behind him, but I don’t want to get too close, when his stupid fankids start cutting in front of me. “I need you to step back. I need to be close to him,” I tell them in a manner I don’t care is nice or not. They’re annoying and they shouldn’t have been with us. We slowly navigate to the other side of the building (over the skybridge and into the other part of the convention center) when his handler gets the call that it’s his turn and now he’s late. Seriously? They told us thirty minutes and we were gone for ten minutes, tops. So, now we’re salmon swimming against the current. I end up right on Misha’s tail and tell him to slow down at one point so his handler can catch up. I don’t really care if we lose the kids, but we can’t lose his handler. To streamline, we end up going single file, make through his roaring crowd, and he’s at his post ready take pictures.
Sometime during his photos, someone runs to get him a bag for all his gifts. I organize some stuff in his bag, stand up, and almost run into Billy Dee Williams. Yes, Lando from the Star Wars movies. He was going to walk straight into Misha’s photos (which would have been kinda funny), but instead we guide him to a chair to sit down. A few minutes later, I hear a man with a rather familiar voice about a foot away from me. I turn and see Adam West (a.k.a. Batman) standing there talking to one of the photo minions.
Ack! This is the best job in the world!
As Misha’s wrapping up, he pulls his little friends in for the photo. I don’t think I’m going to get a picture with him (like he said I could) because we’re so far behind and I’m in the green shirt when his handler suddenly pushes me in. He grabs me and embraces me and the picture ends up with me with a look of sheer pleasure and joy and him with his model face. A joking model face, but it’s still a lovely picture and is my desktop at work.
Then, we got ready to head back up. As Billy Dee is prepping to go out there, I chat with him, ask him how his weekend is going, and he’s polite. We can’t really say much since he has to be out on his mark and Misha has to get back upstairs. As we head out, who do we see but Natalia Tena, Tonks from the Harry Potter movies. Now, I had heard some wild stories about her, but all I got to do was say hi to her since she was leaving, but hey, I’ve met her.
Misha was supposed to have a lunch break before his afternoon signing, but the photos were delayed and everything was set back that he had to go to his break in his signing time. And there was a long line. A really long line. There was even a satellite line in Gillian’s area. Yeah.
But he needed to eat and his handler and I hadn’t eaten either, so we let him go get some food while we got to the table and ate some snacks we had. We sat and waited until his handler tells me to go grab him from the green room since it had been at least ten minutes. I run to go get him and as I get to the hallway to the green room, I see Patrick Stewart in the hallway chatting with Wil Wheaton. My childhood heart squeed at this little reunion, but I couldn’t approach them. They were talking and I had a mission. I’m about to go into the green room when some lady stops me. “What do you need?” she asks.
“I need to get Misha Collins. He needs to get to his table,” I respond.
“I’ll see if he’s in there. Wait here,” she replies coldly and steps inside.
Really? I think. I just walked by Patrick Stewart and pretended not to recognize him. What do think I’m gonna do, lady? Accost the celebrities? Bitch, please.
“He’s not in there,” she says.
“What?” my heart sinks. “Where is he?”
“He just walked down that hallway,” she said, remarking the hallway I just came down.
Seriously? HOW?!
I run out onto the floor and there he is, sitting quietly at his table! I return to my post and say to him, “How did you sneak past me?”
He just smiled and continued to sign. Jerk.
So we’re at this for almost two hours. He doesn’t get a break, but we’re constantly moving through the line. At one point, he turns to me and tells me that he doesn’t have time for all the hugs anymore. He needs to get the autographs done. I pass the message on to his handler and she tells the fans that he’s not doing any more hugs because he doesn’t want to get his children sick. But a few seconds later, as I’m prepping the next person in line, some fangirl asks for a hug and he acquiesces. “Misha!” I scold. He shrugs and basically tells me that I have to enforce the no hug policy.
So after one more fangirl slips by my notice, I become much more vigilant. The next girl that asks for a hug, he says yes but I immediately respond with no. The girl looks upset because she just bared her soul to him and he was super nice about it, but I honestly don’t care at this point. He needs to get through his line and all the maneuvering takes up too much time. And then comes the girls who his handler already told not to ask for hugs. They ask for hugs. I shoot them down. Not in my house, children!
All too soon, the line is shortening, the day is nearing its end, and my weekend is almost over. People keep jumping in line to say hi to him, but we end up pushing them back because the day is almost over and the photos are still being printed. We decide to clear the floor for those who want theirs signed and no more silly teens flirting with him. Since the line is all those who just want to talk to him, we let him take a break. Since he doesn’t want to walk all the way around, he decides he’ll just cut across the floor. Some woman in his line starts talking to him (and furiously flirting) about how he blew up the internet during his panel. Mostly because everyone is dumb and thought he was using the term “lip service” as a double entendre. (If you’ve seen his tweets, this was around the time he tweeted his correction.) His handler told me to take him to the green room since people kept pouncing on him and talking to him. One girl in particular was standing directly in front of him so he couldn’t really pass her. I saw him on his phone so I think he was trying to get out of talking to his fans, but they weren’t taking a hint.
This girl was particularly irritating because she was a volunteer. And not a very good one. She was supposed to be manning the line at the end, but she stood talking with another volunteer so they kept blocking the middle of his section and made it look like the line was closed. If she wasn’t standing in the middle, she was letting people pass her and jump straight into the signing line without first entering the buying line. Now, I understand having to tell her once, maybe twice, but I think Misha’s handler and I told her about five times. We even had one person make it all the way up to the table with money in hand, only to have to get into the buying line and then back into the signing line. So, we sent her on an errand. Then we replaced her and told the people in charge of the floor.
We didn’t see her today until she got in line and got his autograph. Then she hung around and hovered over him. We had to get the person in charge of everyone and everything on the floor to keep a close eye on her and to escort Misha to the green room. Finally, he got away and I asked someone to go get my photo for me for him to sign. As we waited for him to come back, the fangirl!minion kept trying to weasel a free autograph out of us. No way. You can try to confuse us kid, but the answer is always gonna be no.
Another minion who really helped us out throughout the weekend got her photo (which she raised money for to get) and I asked her if she was getting it signed. She said she couldn’t afford it, but I told her to get up there anyway. I told Misha to sign it and he said “No.” But he did anyway. The annoying girl said, “Of course,” under her breath, but I didn’t care. (I later found out she was upset she didn't get a hug. Or so I was told.) She didn’t help out as much as this other volunteer. As the day was getting closer and closer to the end, we noticed that not many people were coming up and his agent was getting him ready to leave. We had to keep the poor fans at bay and only let paying customers in at this point since it would have been a waste to have those paying customers stand there while people who didn’t pay talk his ear off.
Someone did pay but was still trying to talk his ear off when I decided to nab a photo for him to sign since my picture had not yet arrived. I grabbed a Post-It and wrote my name on it and you know what he did? He ripped the sticky note off the picture, threw it, and said, “I know your name!” kinda indignantly.
So, as this woman was talking at him, he wrote me this lovely message: Thank you for picking up all my trash. You were awesome this weekend. Thanks a million. -Misha. (Is it sad that I just typed that by heart?) So, already I was touched that he was kind of apologizing for his douchebaggery this weekend (but I knew he wasn’t really a douchebag). Then, he gave me a great, warm hug that I might have held onto a little longer than necessary, but I was getting myself a 30-second hug, dang it!
And then, he was gone.
As I read over his note, I felt this overwhelming weight settle onto my chest. I just had a mindblowingly amazing weekend, and it had ended so suddenly, that I think my emotions were getting the better of me.
Yes, I cried.
I couldn’t tell you if it was hunger, physical and/or emotional exhaustion, or just a sudden shift in emotions and my body was totally not expecting it. Or, maybe he made me fall in love with him. Either way, I was kind of a wreck. I was happy about the successful weekend, but I was so upset it was over. And I had to get back to real life.
All in all, it was such a wonderful weekend and I’m so glad I got to experience it.
TL;DR Misha Collins is a pretty, snarky bastard, but he’s also really awesome. And I taught him how to swing dance.
The End
I got back to Misha’s table and discovered his panel hadn’t even started yet. Well, why don’t I just go to that? His panel was literally right behind his table, so it was super close. I walked in and the people in the room let me sit down rather close to the stage. The perks of being Misha’s girl. So the panel started and he was hilarious (of course) and the panel was going great. Until the fan questions. I think the third or fourth person brought up Dean/Castiel and there was a groan through the room. Really? Why would you talk to an actor about the fans’ desire to see his character and his friend’s character start a physical relationship? It’s creepy. But he handled their questions well and point-blank told the fans that no, he did not want there to be a relationship. Mainly because it doesn’t make sense for the show. I have since seen a few (read: a season) episodes and I agree there’s a bond between those two characters, but I think it’s built off something different than sexual attraction.
Anyway, it got weird and awkward but he was still funny as hell. As soon as it ended, I walked over to where he was going to get off the stage and greeted him. He smiled and said hello. Once we were in the back, there was a gaggle of people who talked to him (I had no idea who they were or why they were back there). The moderator got a picture with him and wanted his autograph, so I went to his table to get a picture for him to sign. I step out behind the curtain and there’s a HUGE line of people. Oh, crap. I grab the picture, tell his handler I’ll be right back with him, and return to him with the picture and the news.
Of course, he dawdles. His handler had to go in the back to retrieve him and, after a few more minutes of talking, he finally steps out. And he signs. And he signs. We try to get him through the line as quickly as possible since we want him to have a break before his photo-op. Turns out, that doesn’t really happen. He needs to run to the restroom again, so we pause the line so I can take him. As we’re walking, I ask him if he’s been able to see the city. He tells me not really, but he did go for a run the previous morning. I reply that I wish I was a runner, as my grandmother is a big advocate of that form of exercise. He tells me that it’s not the easiest thing to jump into. I say, “I dance. That’s how I get my exercise, I guess.”
“Oh, really? What kind of dancing?” he asks.
“Swing.”
“I’ve always wanted to learn!” he remarks.
“Well, I could give you a lesson…”
He laughs. “If there’s time, yes.”
Yes! But then I think, we probably won’t get the time…
After his restroom break, he decides he wants to talk five and eat some food, so I return to the table and chat with the fans while we’re waiting. His handler goes to get him and he returns to crank out the signings before his photo-op. And we do really well. I keep trying to push people along. About five minutes before his photo-op, I push the last few people through and then we’re done! No one has to wait, thank goodness. We’re getting ready to leave when a bunch of teens approach. He knows them our their aunt somehow, but they start talking, and his handler and I are trying to get him out of there. One does not simply delay the ComiCon photographer (insert Sean Bean meme here). He tells his fans/friends that he has to go to his next thing, and they reply that they’re going down there, too and they’ll see him them. To which he replies, “Oh, just come with us, then!” His handler and I share looks of exasperation. “Misha, you’re going to get me trouble,” she tells him.
So they come behind the table and tag along. Ugh. As we’re walking through, who do we run into but Felicia Day! I just want to say hi to her, so I do, but the girl in Misha’s fanclub asks to take a picture. “No!” her handler responds. “We have to get to her panel.” So we continue on. As we’re in the elevator, I comment on how I tried to get to her line, but it was already capped. “Oh, we were supposed to go down there!” Misha comments. The fact that he remembered made it all better.
We get down to the photo-op room and Wil Wheaton is just finishing up his photo-op and apparently there are at least two more people in front of Misha. Turns out a certain superstar delayed the line because he had a discussion about space with a real astronaut. And this delay is ok because it was Patrick Freaking Stewart who was the star in question. Oh to have been in earshot of the conversation…
We stand and wait for a few minutes before I realize: this is the perfect opportunity to teach Misha how to swing dance! “Hey, Misha,” I say nonchalantly. “How about that swing lesson?”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” he replies.
So, I teach Misha the basic swing steps. Curse my cold hands, but I look up at him and he’s close and his eyes are gorgeous and dark blue and…somehow I maintain control of my faculties. But now I can say I have danced with Misha Collins, because he spun me and everything. He quit rather quickly, even though he caught on amazingly fast. I think it was because people were watching. I really wish someone had videotaped it…
His next agenda is to walk the show floor. At first I think “Disaster!” and then I think “Fun! I get to play bodyguard!” So, his handler gives her number to one of the people at the photo-op and tells her to call/text us when he’s up. We walk out and the room erupts. His fans are lining the walkway and everyone is cheering/screaming/crying/flailing/taking pictures/getting video and his handler and I are on either side of him. His little annoying entourage is close on our heels.
Once we’re out on the floor, it’s madness. People are everywhere; thankfully not many recognize him so we’re safe to walk around. The only trouble is navigating through the crowd. His handler wants me to stay on his other side, but it’s so crowded it’s hard to walk three abreast. I end up walking behind him, but his arm is swinging so he keeps hitting me. I have to keep my arm up so he doesn’t keep unwittingly punching me.
I’m walking behind him, but I don’t want to get too close, when his stupid fankids start cutting in front of me. “I need you to step back. I need to be close to him,” I tell them in a manner I don’t care is nice or not. They’re annoying and they shouldn’t have been with us. We slowly navigate to the other side of the building (over the skybridge and into the other part of the convention center) when his handler gets the call that it’s his turn and now he’s late. Seriously? They told us thirty minutes and we were gone for ten minutes, tops. So, now we’re salmon swimming against the current. I end up right on Misha’s tail and tell him to slow down at one point so his handler can catch up. I don’t really care if we lose the kids, but we can’t lose his handler. To streamline, we end up going single file, make through his roaring crowd, and he’s at his post ready take pictures.
Sometime during his photos, someone runs to get him a bag for all his gifts. I organize some stuff in his bag, stand up, and almost run into Billy Dee Williams. Yes, Lando from the Star Wars movies. He was going to walk straight into Misha’s photos (which would have been kinda funny), but instead we guide him to a chair to sit down. A few minutes later, I hear a man with a rather familiar voice about a foot away from me. I turn and see Adam West (a.k.a. Batman) standing there talking to one of the photo minions.
Ack! This is the best job in the world!
As Misha’s wrapping up, he pulls his little friends in for the photo. I don’t think I’m going to get a picture with him (like he said I could) because we’re so far behind and I’m in the green shirt when his handler suddenly pushes me in. He grabs me and embraces me and the picture ends up with me with a look of sheer pleasure and joy and him with his model face. A joking model face, but it’s still a lovely picture and is my desktop at work.
Then, we got ready to head back up. As Billy Dee is prepping to go out there, I chat with him, ask him how his weekend is going, and he’s polite. We can’t really say much since he has to be out on his mark and Misha has to get back upstairs. As we head out, who do we see but Natalia Tena, Tonks from the Harry Potter movies. Now, I had heard some wild stories about her, but all I got to do was say hi to her since she was leaving, but hey, I’ve met her.
Misha was supposed to have a lunch break before his afternoon signing, but the photos were delayed and everything was set back that he had to go to his break in his signing time. And there was a long line. A really long line. There was even a satellite line in Gillian’s area. Yeah.
But he needed to eat and his handler and I hadn’t eaten either, so we let him go get some food while we got to the table and ate some snacks we had. We sat and waited until his handler tells me to go grab him from the green room since it had been at least ten minutes. I run to go get him and as I get to the hallway to the green room, I see Patrick Stewart in the hallway chatting with Wil Wheaton. My childhood heart squeed at this little reunion, but I couldn’t approach them. They were talking and I had a mission. I’m about to go into the green room when some lady stops me. “What do you need?” she asks.
“I need to get Misha Collins. He needs to get to his table,” I respond.
“I’ll see if he’s in there. Wait here,” she replies coldly and steps inside.
Really? I think. I just walked by Patrick Stewart and pretended not to recognize him. What do think I’m gonna do, lady? Accost the celebrities? Bitch, please.
“He’s not in there,” she says.
“What?” my heart sinks. “Where is he?”
“He just walked down that hallway,” she said, remarking the hallway I just came down.
Seriously? HOW?!
I run out onto the floor and there he is, sitting quietly at his table! I return to my post and say to him, “How did you sneak past me?”
He just smiled and continued to sign. Jerk.
So we’re at this for almost two hours. He doesn’t get a break, but we’re constantly moving through the line. At one point, he turns to me and tells me that he doesn’t have time for all the hugs anymore. He needs to get the autographs done. I pass the message on to his handler and she tells the fans that he’s not doing any more hugs because he doesn’t want to get his children sick. But a few seconds later, as I’m prepping the next person in line, some fangirl asks for a hug and he acquiesces. “Misha!” I scold. He shrugs and basically tells me that I have to enforce the no hug policy.
So after one more fangirl slips by my notice, I become much more vigilant. The next girl that asks for a hug, he says yes but I immediately respond with no. The girl looks upset because she just bared her soul to him and he was super nice about it, but I honestly don’t care at this point. He needs to get through his line and all the maneuvering takes up too much time. And then comes the girls who his handler already told not to ask for hugs. They ask for hugs. I shoot them down. Not in my house, children!
All too soon, the line is shortening, the day is nearing its end, and my weekend is almost over. People keep jumping in line to say hi to him, but we end up pushing them back because the day is almost over and the photos are still being printed. We decide to clear the floor for those who want theirs signed and no more silly teens flirting with him. Since the line is all those who just want to talk to him, we let him take a break. Since he doesn’t want to walk all the way around, he decides he’ll just cut across the floor. Some woman in his line starts talking to him (and furiously flirting) about how he blew up the internet during his panel. Mostly because everyone is dumb and thought he was using the term “lip service” as a double entendre. (If you’ve seen his tweets, this was around the time he tweeted his correction.) His handler told me to take him to the green room since people kept pouncing on him and talking to him. One girl in particular was standing directly in front of him so he couldn’t really pass her. I saw him on his phone so I think he was trying to get out of talking to his fans, but they weren’t taking a hint.
This girl was particularly irritating because she was a volunteer. And not a very good one. She was supposed to be manning the line at the end, but she stood talking with another volunteer so they kept blocking the middle of his section and made it look like the line was closed. If she wasn’t standing in the middle, she was letting people pass her and jump straight into the signing line without first entering the buying line. Now, I understand having to tell her once, maybe twice, but I think Misha’s handler and I told her about five times. We even had one person make it all the way up to the table with money in hand, only to have to get into the buying line and then back into the signing line. So, we sent her on an errand. Then we replaced her and told the people in charge of the floor.
We didn’t see her today until she got in line and got his autograph. Then she hung around and hovered over him. We had to get the person in charge of everyone and everything on the floor to keep a close eye on her and to escort Misha to the green room. Finally, he got away and I asked someone to go get my photo for me for him to sign. As we waited for him to come back, the fangirl!minion kept trying to weasel a free autograph out of us. No way. You can try to confuse us kid, but the answer is always gonna be no.
Another minion who really helped us out throughout the weekend got her photo (which she raised money for to get) and I asked her if she was getting it signed. She said she couldn’t afford it, but I told her to get up there anyway. I told Misha to sign it and he said “No.” But he did anyway. The annoying girl said, “Of course,” under her breath, but I didn’t care. (I later found out she was upset she didn't get a hug. Or so I was told.) She didn’t help out as much as this other volunteer. As the day was getting closer and closer to the end, we noticed that not many people were coming up and his agent was getting him ready to leave. We had to keep the poor fans at bay and only let paying customers in at this point since it would have been a waste to have those paying customers stand there while people who didn’t pay talk his ear off.
Someone did pay but was still trying to talk his ear off when I decided to nab a photo for him to sign since my picture had not yet arrived. I grabbed a Post-It and wrote my name on it and you know what he did? He ripped the sticky note off the picture, threw it, and said, “I know your name!” kinda indignantly.
So, as this woman was talking at him, he wrote me this lovely message: Thank you for picking up all my trash. You were awesome this weekend. Thanks a million. -Misha. (Is it sad that I just typed that by heart?) So, already I was touched that he was kind of apologizing for his douchebaggery this weekend (but I knew he wasn’t really a douchebag). Then, he gave me a great, warm hug that I might have held onto a little longer than necessary, but I was getting myself a 30-second hug, dang it!
And then, he was gone.
As I read over his note, I felt this overwhelming weight settle onto my chest. I just had a mindblowingly amazing weekend, and it had ended so suddenly, that I think my emotions were getting the better of me.
Yes, I cried.
I couldn’t tell you if it was hunger, physical and/or emotional exhaustion, or just a sudden shift in emotions and my body was totally not expecting it. Or, maybe he made me fall in love with him. Either way, I was kind of a wreck. I was happy about the successful weekend, but I was so upset it was over. And I had to get back to real life.
All in all, it was such a wonderful weekend and I’m so glad I got to experience it.
TL;DR Misha Collins is a pretty, snarky bastard, but he’s also really awesome. And I taught him how to swing dance.
The End