I've never even seen Star Wars. I mean, I may have caught bits and pieces of it to satiate the need of men everywhere to force it upon unseen eyes, but I never really enjoyed it. I mean, I have boobs and social skills which prove to be Kryptonite to things like "sci-fi". Sorry.

So when I was offered a ticket to the "Intergalactic Gala," a black-tie event celebrating the opening of the Star Wars traveling exhibit at COSI, I was a little skeptical. But, as social experiences past have dictated, you never turn down a $200 ticket to anything. So I went. Alone.

I walked in through the doors into a ring of costumed Storm Troopers, which I thought were statues until they all started to collapse in toward me as I moved past them. I don't know if the feeling is particularly "normal," however I get very apprehensive when surrounded by costumed characters, especially if I can't see their eyes. Freaking creepy.

I turned to my friend Nathan, who works for the science center (and was able to score me the ticket), and pointed to the Troopers, "What's up with those guys anyway? They getting paid, or what?"
He shrugged, "I think there are like, groups of Star Wars superfans in legionsregionally throughout the country and they just... do this."
"For free?!" My incredulousness was genuine.
Nathan answered on the slow exhale while turning his palms outward and again shrugging, "Yeeeah."

I tried to think about whether there was anything I had ever felt so connected with that I would lend my dedication to for solely personal gain. Oh yeah, beer.

The Star Wars exhibit would've been awesome for someone really into the movies, and included all sorts of things that were so geeky I don't even know the words for them, probably because they don't really exist outside of Star Wars movies and message boards. I did, however, know these guys:


All right, I'm lying, I have no idea who the creepy dude on the left is.


Andrea Campburn (Channel 10 news) emceed the event and she looked like she might actually have a negative percentage of body fat. One thing is clear: Andrea Campburn could kick my ass. No question. That beyotch is ripped up to where it's almost difficult to look at her face if her arms are bared. I mean, it's just almost unnecessary. I met her once back when I was in middle school, though, and I can vouch for her. She's really overly nice. But she's just a freaking beast.

Anyway. The event was catered by Cameron Mitchell's finest, and included various meats and sauces, and of course they were all excellent because as a caterer you are not allowed to disappoint a roomful of people that are paying $200 for dinner. I was pleased as well, even though my ticket was free. We were offered a few complimentary beverages, none of which were particularly memorable except for theYodatini, which contained Apple Pucker that could be smelled on everyone's breath from several feet away. There's something pleasantly entertaining about a huge group of rich people drinking free, green Yodatinis.

There was a live auction, and several silent ones. I heard they raised a lot of money, but I was more interested in finding a certain hairy wookie.

I tagged a Trooper on the way upstairs. "Hey, where's Chewy?"
In the voice you'd expect to emanate from that sort of costume, he said in character, "He's not here."
"Why not?"
"The closest Chewy is actually in Tennessee."

Oh. Right.