“He’s got man-hands, we can work with this!”
by Jesha84, guest blogger, reposted from her LiveJournal blog with permission
The title quote in this segment is my own, uttered as I gushed about this experience on Juneau and Xena’s radio show Wednesday, October 6th. I was unable to go into full detail about my encounter with Adam because of time constraints, so I’m sharing all there is to share here. Thanks to Juneau/Xena for the bit about the microphone stand last year!
September 18, 2010.
For most people that date has no significance. For the few thousand fortunate enough to be at Tropicana Field that night, it was the day that they saw what was, in my opinion, one of the most fun and energetic performances Adam Lambert gave on his Glam Nation Tour. For a small percentage of those thousands, it was the day they gave up sleep to get Adam’s autograph after the show. I was among them.
But for me, that date is so much more. It’s the day I got to touch the Glam Rock Sex God himself.
Ok, so maybe that’s nothing extraordinary. After all, his fansite is selling meet-and-greet packages, where for a minute or two, you are the center of his world, where he looks you in the eye and actually talks to you. You get a picture and one of those fantastic Adam Lambert hugs. I dream about those. One can clearly see that he’s never half-hearted in any affection he shows. He loves his fans, even if they are over-the-top and cross personal boundaries. Always the optimist, he calls them “passionate”. They’re given the same love as any other person he encounters. I dream of being on the receiving end of that, having him reach out and pull me close and hold me tightly in that most basic but perhaps most heart-warming gesture. I have yet to benefit from the meet-and-greet arrangement, and chances are I may never get that opportunity. I’ve accepted that it will likely pass me by; I’ve readily and happily taken the moments I’ve had to “meet” him at the barricades after shows and looked at them with the idea that if I never see him in the flesh again, I will have those times in my memory forever.
So needless to say, touching him, even though it was just his hand, was a thrill beyond words to me.
As mentioned, he came out to sign after the Tampa show, and for the first time ever, I was right up against the barricades. Breathless with excitement and trembling at the thought that he would be right there, I fumbled with my camera and began taking video. This was an experience not to be missed.
Suddenly, I panicked. What should I have him sign??? I had brought my Details and Japanese Rolling Stone magazines with me on the trip, but I had left them in the hotel room, thinking that the show is after a baseball game and where the heck would Adam come out to sign at a place like that? (Lesson learned – don’t leave ANY autographable media at home when you’re going to be in the same vicinity as Adam!) Desperate and dismayed, all I could think was, “Oh my God, Adam is going to be right in front of me and I have nothing for him to sign! No interaction? No! It can’t be!!!!” Suddenly, light appeared, brilliant and illuminating. I remembered I had the FYE cd in my purse. Hello, the book! Not my first choice for an autograph but there was no way in the world I was complaining. So I quickly pulled it out and got it ready. Yes! I have something to give to him!
Then my flailing-fangirl mind kicked in. (This is the scary obsessive part of our brains that most of us supress to keep socially acceptable boundaries. It’s the part that tells us to follow the tour buses on the highway, to find the hotel room Adam’s staying in, to jump the barricades and barrel through the security guards just to get to him.) I began thinking that this is my 2nd to last show, and I may never get this close to him again. I had this wild, outrageous, and sorely tempting idea: I HAD to try to touch him. I had to see for myself that he’s real, that he’s flesh and blood and not just a crazy gorgeous figment of an overactive imagination.
But how to do it? It couldn’t be something so obvious; I didn’t want him to think of me as a crazed fan (even though I am). Yet it had to be enough to imprint on my mind forever, something I could turn over again and again.
I formulated a plan. I was recording him going down the line with the camera in my right hand. I’m right-handed, so I knew if I switched the camera to my left, the video would be horribly shaky, so I couldn’t do that. I had to hope I was coordinated enough to hand him the book with my left, then as I was taking it back, brush my fingers against his.
He got closer and closer and my heart raced well past the breaking point. I could not believe he was going to be right in front of me, less than a foot away. I was a little mad that he was wearing sunglasses and I couldn’t see those hypnotic blue eyes. But he had on that adorable fedora and that made up for it. Trying to hold the camera steady while waching and taking in every detail, I gripped the book in my hand. My moment, my make-or-break opportunity was fast approaching. I felt my resolve wavering, questioning whether my plan was too crazy, too obsessive. Right away I told myself this was a mild display and this could be my only chance ever. Determined, I took a deep breath, readying myself.
Finally, he was RIGHT THERE; I had the insane thought that I could grab his shirt and plant a kiss on those luscious pink freckled lips. I pushed my fangirl-flailing self back into the shadows. Trembling, I held out my book to him. He took it, signed it and held it out to me. Here goes!
I reach out, stretch my fingers, and brush them against his, knuckles down to the tips, as I take the book back. Not sensual or anything – for him anyway. He probably thought it was an accident, if he noticed at all. But me…. oh my GOD!!! In that 1 second of contact a bazillion thoughts and emotions ran through me. I did it! Success!!! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG I touched Adam Lambert!!! I tried to collect my shattered thoughts back together and could only focus on the shock of how his hands felt. I had expected his hands to be soft and sensual, since he does his nails and gets manicures. But no, they were rough, working hands, really manly. All that microphone stroking on the American Idol tour last year had made their impression. If I needed any more of a turn on, that was it!
I walked – er, floated – away from the barricade. I blew up my friends’ phones with texts and my Twitter feed probably lost followers. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care that people would think me insane and obsessive. I didn’t care. I didn’t regret my actions at all. I made my own life complete.
I’m still hoping to one day get one of those amazing hugs from him. But if that never happens, you will never hear me complain. I will always and forever have this moment to relive again and again.
This is the video I took, my moment happens at about the 1:10 mark. You can’t see it, but use your imagination! And that’s me making the little squeaking sounds afterwards. I didn’t want to scream and ruin the video. 😉