My Best Friend Regis

Regis Philbin lives locally. In fact, a fair number of people do: Terry Crews and Judge Judy, for example. I was bound to run into one eventually. So I was eating at a diner yesterday with about a dozen others, and sure enough, in walks Regis with three friends, and they sit at a table at the far corner of the diner.

Instantly, he became the topic of conversation at our table. One group of girls went to the bathroom just to get a closer look at him (after discussing for several minutes their plans to do so). My seat, I discovered, was the perfect vantage point for viewing him, so I stood up next to my seat and watched him for about twenty seconds. As soon as we made eye contact, I sat down hunched over my burger and and pretended I had never been standing.

Eventually, we all left. Everyone else drove home, but I don't have a license, so I was stuck sitting outside waiting for my mother to come pick me up. While I was waiting around, Regis walked out of the diner with two of his three friends. Moreover, he didn't leave - he was standing about four feet in front of me, checking out some newspapers.

Immediately, I started gesticulating at my friends across the street who were walking to their cars. After getting their attention, I pointed wildly at Regis, hoping  I was out of the line of sight of him and his friends. (I think one saw me, but if she did, she didn't say anything.)

After a minute, Regis's last friend came outside. Worrying that they were about to leave, I approached Regis and asked, "Um, excuse me, I know you must get this all the time, but may I have a picture?" This must have been pretty routine for him, because said sure somewhat offhandedly and lined himself up on the sidewalk. One of his friends who was crossing the street asked what his holdup was, and he said he was waiting for a picture.

So I tried to get my phone to turn on its camera. I pushed the camera button and walked toward his other friend, asking if he could please take our picture for me. His friend said, "Well, I don't even know who you are!" I apologized, introduced myself, and extended my hand for a shake, which he disregarded and tried to take my phone. I couldn't quite give it to him, though, because it wasn't in camera mode yet. He asked why I wasn't giving it to him; I explained that I was trying to turn on its camera. I took a step back and tried to fiddle around with it as I apologized profusely for holding Regis up, and if he had somewhere to go, then please, by all means, don't let me make him late; meanwhile, Regis's friends were asking what was taking so long. After at least a minute of this, Regis asked, "Son, have you ever taken a picture with this before?" I said, "Well, no, but I-" at which point Regis said, "All right, nevermind," and walked briskly on his way with his friends.

Shortly thereafter, I discovered that you had to hold down the camera button.

Man.

Making Deadlines 101

Last night I began doing the dishes at 11:20 PM. I often like to set "target times" for myself to make a game out of them; sorta like "if I finish this essay by 2:00 then I can play Sporcle," but more mundane and with no prize other than a sense of accomplishment. At first, I decided that I should be done with the dishes by 11:30; I reconsidered and decided that that was more time that I needed. However, because I intended to go straight to bed after doing the dishes, I could encourage myself not to dawdle online by challenging myself to be in bed at 11:30.

11:28, the dishes were done. I quickly removed my gloves and dashed upstairs to brush my teeth. I came to the executive decision that 11:30 would count as long as it was before 11:31 (going by my watch's time, of course); that is to say, it was valid right up until 11:30.59.

11:30.35, I finished brushing my teeth. I spat into the sink and quickly rinsed out , which for whatever reason took longer than usual. I threw away my paper cup, and glanced at my watch. 11:30.48. I had as good as lost.

I ran into my room and turned the light on. I realized that my parameter was if I was in bed at 11:30, not if I was lying down and ready to sleep at 11:30; therefore if I got into my bed in time and got into pajamas without setting foot out of the bed, I was still in the clear. I leapt and bounded into my bed, and checked my watch. 11:30.56. I was safe, but I hadn't won yet.

Fortunately, changing into pajamas was quick and painless. I threw my dirty clothes across the room into the hamper, thinking I was about to taste sweet victory, until I made a horrible realization: the lights were on.

So, to recap:

• I was sitting in my bed
• I had to get across the room and back
• I was not permitted to touch the floor.

That's right.

The floor was lava.

Now, allow me to provide you with a diagram of my room:

After a minute of planning, my route was decided, and I set out on my journey. I made my way over to the foot of my bed and leaned over to pull out the bottom drawer of the dresser nearest me. I then crouched on my bed and, holding onto the bedpost, reached my foot over into the drawer. I transferred over, and was somewhat stably across the first gap.

The second transfer was easier: I pulled my hamper a little closer to me, and set foot atop my clothes. My foot sank as the air space between my clothes was crushed, but I was ultimately standing in my last week's worth of filth.

The third "move" wasn't so much of a move as it was a maneuver. I turned around so I was facing the wall, and grabbed onto the bookshelf portion of the next dresser. (It's like a combo thing, where there are drawers on bottom and a bookshelf on top. You know.) I shifted my weight over, putting one foot into my pants drawer in the dresser, and reached over to turn the lights off. I climbed back into my hamper, across the first dresser, bridged the gap, and lay in my bed, victorious.

I am 17 years old and entering college in nine weeks, where I am expected to be a mature adult.

Have at me, world.