My Roast of Bob Saget

Perhaps it's all those commercials for the Comedy Central Roast of Bob Saget, or perhaps it's just because my story about Bob Saget is so weird that it's just permanently etched in my mind. Whatever the case, Bob Saget is on my mind.

Growing up in Anaheim, I was always in Hollywood’s backyard; some people imagine that living here must mean I see celebrities everyday, or at least once a year. I've seen my fair share of big stars like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but my run-ins with celebrities are usually with the stars no one cares about. I saw the guy who plays Screech at a Game Spot and he was an arrogant little prick, I saw Danny DeVito at a mall and he yelled at my mom not to stare, I shook Steve Urkels hand, and I had to watch as that little George Michael punk from Arrested Development flirted with my wife (then girlfriend). But none were as woefully weird and wrong as my encounter with Bob Saget--the king of TV has-beens.

I was 13 at the time, and my brother was the treasurer of a finance club in college; part of his duties were to raise money for the club, and one easy way to do this was to attend TV show tapings. They'd pay the club to bring people in. One such show was "America's Funniest Home Videos." Even at 13 I found the show a bit annoying, and wasn't exactly excited about going; nor was I excited about dressing up in a nice shirt and tie. But this was my brother, and that's just what you do.

While most of the people from the club sat in the back bleachers, the person in charge of seating thought my parents and I looked like a model American family, perfect for the first four rows. So they sat us in row number four, and told us to just have fun.

I did my best to act excited, but it was hard. The warm-up act was just slightly funnier then the actual home videos we'd have to sit through. After thirty minutes or so, we were ready for the main attraction: Mr. Bob Saget. I was on the end of the aisle, so when he ran out he would have to pass by me.

The bright lights turned on, the music started playing, and I knew the star creep of the show had begun his run to the stage. As he began to run past me, he stopped, turned, and looked right at me. He starred at me right in the eyes for several seconds. Several seconds turned into a very creepy moment, and they finally had to yell cut. He didn't notice tapes had stopped rolling, because he was still molesting me with his eyes. Finally he turned away, and ran off.

"What did you do?" My mom asked panicked, "Did you try and trip him?"

I swore I hadn't, although I now wished I had. During the next take he didn't stop. He went right to the stage and pretended nothing had just happened.

I've seen the "Hey, do I know you?" stare, the "Hey, is that a booger on your collar?" stare, and the "What's your problem?" stare. Bob Saget's stare was none of those. It was the, "Hey, little white boy, let's go to the back and I'll show you my personal collection of funny videos" stare. It was creepy, and I have not since forgot it.