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Loser lovers line bookstore for Lange
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Before I describe the crowd scene last night at the Inner Harbor, let’s get one thing straight. Comedian and soon-to-be best selling author Artie Lange is no loser.
Oh, he tries to hide behind a cloak of shlamazalhood, a casual vibe of devil may care. The stubble and Sunny's Surplus attire help project a defeatist attitude. Only one teensy-tiny fly in the ointment separates Lange from his loser persona.
Fans. Tons of them.
Fans who wouldn’t stop lining the aisles of Barnes and Noble, snaking around stacks, and reaching back as far as the escalators. Devoted fans who braved bitter cold rain, some diehards waiting since 4 p.m. that afternoon to see Lange in the flesh. Obsessed fans who love Lange so dearly they listen to him on Howard Stern every day. Fans who didn’t seem to mind waiting with book purchases to get autographs, snap pictures, and perhaps shoot the breeze.
In fact, the only hint of loserhood came from Lange’s Leather Entourage. That’s what I call the gaggle of personalities who surrounded him at the book signing. I suppose it made sense to limit his face time to books purchasers, but I felt cheap and dirty by their insistence on taking my money. After all, I only wanted a few minutes of Lange’s time.
Good thing I had my trusty yellow ticket and secret weapon (the guy in front of me). The ticket assured me of a place in line and my secret weapon helped me bypass the Leather Entourage.
Lange’s literary debut, Too Fat To Fish, seems to be flying off shelves, at least in Baltimore where fans can’t get enough of him. As I approached him without the required book purchase, the Leather Entourage tried to shoo me away.
That’s when I pulled out my secret weapon. “I’m with him,” I replied and quickly asked a couple questions.
Tom Booker, my secret weapon, drove all the way down from Pennsylvania to connect with Lange. Why all the personal sacrifice for the thrill of only a few fleeting moments?
“Artie’s hilarious,” Booker replied, “I love the Crazy Alice and listen to Artie every day.”
Others in the room likely echoed his sentiments. Aside from penning an apparent best seller, Lange is the kind of guy you could kick back with in Fells Point. The loser persona is like an old pair of gloves. They no longer fit and it’s time to get rid of them.
Where did he intend to go after the book signing? “Probably score,” came Lange’s quick reply. As he cracked himself up, I couldn’t decide if he had in mind illicit substances or booty from the nearby Block.
Not that it mattered. Almost an hour after I arrived, fans continued to snake throughout the second floor, a tremendous score no matter how you look at it.
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