They say you should never meet your heroes. For that upon getting their acquaintance they will surly disappoint you.

All the expectations in the world that have built up over years of worship will come crashing down in your self-diluted little world the day your idols don't live up to your pre-conceived notions.

This rang all to true the day I met Darth Vader.

It was a time and place conducive to where many young men or boys meet their idols - and the convention floor was particularly crowded that day. They where all there signing autographs too - Bugs Bunny, Mr. Spock, Optimus Prime, Pac-Man, the Chinese kid from Goonies, Captain America, even the Where's the Beef? Lady

But everyone was in line to get one man's autograph in particular - the greatest pop-culture icon of them all - Darth Vader!

I paid my forty dollars for the black and white glossy of Darth swinging his crimson lightsaber at no doubt some soon to be deceased Jedi and the privilege of having the great Sith Lord himself sign it.

Then I proceeded to stand there for what seemed like hours. Actually it was like close to three. The line itself wrapped around the outside of the convention center floor so far that at times it was so convoluted that you couldn't tell if you where in line to meet Darth Vader or Punky Brewster. And while having Punky sign my wife's triple D bra would have made for a fine keep-sake. I was there for one reason and one reason only - to bring home an 8x10 glossy signed by the fallen Jedi himself.

Standing in line with my fellow conventioneers was like going to a Grateful Dead concert... With nerds. There was a lady in front of me with a shaved head, a tongue and nose piercing, all of which for some reason strangely complimented her classic 1960's Star Trek uniform.

It got weirder - Lt. Sinead O'Conner was accompanied by her boyfriend who was dressed like the Crow. Except for the fact that he didn't seem to fit into his black pleather pants nearly as well as Brandon Lee did. This was probably because he must have weighed close to three hundred pounds.

If being forced to stare at the fuzzy butt crack sandwich peaking out of the Crow's over-stretched shiny Fruit Roll-Up like pants wasn't bad enough - the smell was horrific. Apparently some folks who choose to attend conventions are so excited that they neglect the little things like showers and under-arm deodorant.

The people behind me weren't much better. While they were not in costume, their incessant chatter in regards to the undertones of the current Spiderman issue was enough to make me want to bash my own head into unconsciousness.

After what seemed like forever I finally got to the front of the line. After the Crow and Lt. Sinead O'Conner got their autographs I found myself starring at the Dark Lord himself. I was in awe. My jaw dropped and I didn't know what to say. I had spent the last three hours thinking of the witty things I'd ask him - like: So, Lord Vader, do you find eating and peeing difficult in that suit? Or how I'd ask him if getting to have sex with Natalie Portman was worth a 2,000 degree lava bath. Instead I just stood there. When I finally got the nerve up to hand him my 8x10 glossy with a little prod from the Spiderman fans behind me, suddenly Darth stood up and claimed he had to have a break.

As his minions hurried him off the convention floor I found myself standing there once again. My 8x10 glossy had begun to get wrinkled and soggy in the corner as I realized my hand had been sweating on it.

Finally, after nearly another hour, Vader returned. He sat down at the table in front of me and flatly said in his booming black man voice:

"Well nerd-boy, do you want my autograph or not?"

As I handed him my 8x10 glossy with a shaky hand he snatched it from me and half-hazzardly signed it. He then handed it back to me and said something I'll never forget:

"Perhaps, GEEK, you should consider losing a few pounds. I find your double chin and love-handles disturbing."

Then before I could say anything I was whisked out of line and found myself starring at a booth full of vintage 70's Battlestar Galactica merchandise a few feet away.

In the years since I have tried to put a rational as to why Darth Vader treated me - a loyal, loving fan with such rudeness. I guess it just comes with the territory when you're a Dark Lord of the Sith.