I hold up a cast photo. I jab a finger at the man in the middle of the four women. “See?”
“You’re charging twenty bucks for a creased picture autographed by an actor who wasn’t even on the show?”
“I was in the premiere!” I insist. “And a question onJeopardy!”
“Just let somebody know the women’s room needs paper towels,” she says.
Over the PA system, I hear, “The stars ofSaved by the BellandALFwill be appearing in Conference Room A in one minute!”
“Mario Lopez!” the woman screams. She begins to run. “I’m going to faint!”
The woman at the table next to me looks over and smiles. She is sellingMr. BelvedereT-shirts.
“First time at this convention?” she asks.
I nod.
“I’m Heather,” she says. “This is actually good placement.”
“You mean, as in next in line to clean the toilets?” I ask.
She smiles. “I’m serious. After this session, everyone will be lined up to use the bathroom. People get desperate when they have to tinkle, and they’ll buy stuff like crazy just to keep their minds occupied. Better yet, most of the attendees usually don’t buy tickets for the whole weekend, so they get desperate for merch at the end of the day.”
She picks up a cast photo from her table and points at a young girl.
“That’s me,” she says. “I was the daughter onMr. Belvedere. People only remember the butler and Bob Uecker. TV fans tend to only remember kids on their favorite shows as they were when they were young. It’s too painful to realize we’ve gotten old just like they did.”
“Like Thindy Brady?” I ask with a lisp.
Heather laughs.
“At least your show ran a long time,” I continue. “I was cut before I could even get canceled.”
“Just gives you a chance to reinvent yourself,” she says. “I’ll forever be Heather to those who watched our show. My acting career is over. You can still be anything.”
In the distance, a small roar grows.
“I think Conference Room B with the former MTV veejays just released,” she says. “Brace yourself.”
A rush of Nostalgia Con attendees swarms the bathroom after ingesting a gallon of Coke Zero.
But Heather is right. People are ready to reminisce and buy merch while they wait.
“Oh, my God, I read about you,” a gay couple says to me. “You would never be cut from the show today.”
“Didn’t I see you in a commercial out here for that new Indian restaurant?”
“You’re Blanche inThe Golden Gays, aren’t you?” an older man asks. “I saw it with my family when they visited. You were so good. What are you doing now?”
Nothing.
“Still doing the show,” I say with a big smile. “Come see it again. We reenact different episodes every month and give them our own unique spin.”
“There’s so much streaming content now,” he says. “You’d think you might get a part insomething.”
And, punch to the gut. Barry nearly goes down but remains standing and smiling like the loser he is.
“I’m up for a few parts. Fingers crossed.”
