Ed. note: This is a letter Crystal wrote to me telling the story of the time she met Tegan and Sara in Sydney. After reading it, I did what any sane editor would do and asked if we could publish it on the internet. Enjoy! Love, Laneia
Dear Laneia,
“What would you say to Tegan and Sara?”
I used to get asked that same question at church, except it was about what I’d say to Jesus when I met him at the pearly gates, or wherever it is that you encounter Jesus in the afterlife. Back then, my answers were along the lines of, “I love you” and “please forgive me” and “thank you for dying”… all which earned me gold stars at Sunday School, but would surely get me ejected from the Tegan and Sara Meet & Greet at the Sydney Opera House.
Despite workshopping the answer with friends during the week, I felt terribly unprepared. My opening lines still needed a LOT of fine-tuning.
“Hi…”
“… it’s my job to obsess over you”.
“… I’ve spent the past four years documenting your every move.”
“… I talked some smack about “Love They Say” in my Heartthrob album review and, while I still wouldn’t cite it as one of your strongest songs from a lyrical standpoint, I realize now that I had been projecting some of my own personal issues regarding love onto that track and it wasn’t fair, I’m sorry.”
“… want to see a photo of my cats?”
My VIP ticket entitled me to a few minutes of face-time with Tegan and Sara before one of their Sydney concerts. I was nervous. Not because I’m shit at small talk; I’d done enough phone interviews to know that Tegan and Sara are skilled conversationalists who can pick up my slack.
I was nervous because I’m shit at looking excited.
You’ve met me. I’m a soft talker and a silent laugher. I’m very aware that my “wow, I’m having a great time!” face looks very similar to my “oh my god kill me now” face. I didn’t want Tegan and Sara to mistake me for that guy — the one who’d show up to a fan event and act above it, a little Too Cool For School, if you will. No one likes that guy.
Thankfully curiosity beat out my weirdo insecurities, and I forged ahead to the pre-determined fan meeting spot, the Sydney Opera House Box Office.
“Hi. I’m here for the Tegan and Sara VIP Fan Experience.”
The event wasn’t actually called that, to my knowledge, but I felt that the fancy venue choice gave me license to be a little melodramatic. The box office lady felt similarly. She triple-verified my identify and slid a nondescript envelope through a slot in the perspex window.
“Your instructions are in this packet,” she whispered.
Literally whispered.
Very clandestine, Tegan and Sara.
Inside was a bright pink VIP lanyard with a tiny typed note, directing me to meet someone named Jeremy by the Stage Door. Or maybe his name was Jerome? The note self-destructed as soon as I read it.
I arrived at the fan meeting point the same time as a few small groups of lanyard-wearing asymmetrical-haired denim-clad ladies and a handful of dudes. One paced up and down the crowd, telling cool stories into his mobile about his close personal relationship with the band. I considered striking up conversation with the only other person standing alone but decided to remove and redon my jacket half a dozen times instead.
Elusive Jeremy/Jerome finally appeared. He’s a ridiculously handsome man who speaks with the confident tone of someone who has no time for stragglers. So, when he said “follow me!” and charged off through the loading dock, we all but ran. He led us into the belly of the Opera House, past a large staff cafeteria filled with crew, down a dark, dank corridor and then into the saddest conference room in Sydney. Everything was beige and circa 1973.
Jeremy asked us to form an orderly queue, execution-style against the boardroom wall. Up front was a tripod with a small point-and-shoot camera. Jeremy explained that, one by one, we were to approach Tegan and Sara and, after a quick chat, our photo would be snapped and shared with the band’s 805,703 Facebook fans, sans any filter to lift my skin’s natural washed-out hue.
I liked Jeremy. He wasn’t like other artist reps I’ve encountered, the ones who treat fans like hysterical teens before they even have a chance to propose or pass out. He didn’t read any rules, or remind us to be chill. Maybe he knew that we were too anxious to do anything but hug our designated section of beige.
10 minutes later, Jeremy announced that Tegan and Sara were en route to the conference room. I had a silent panic. I still had no idea what to say. I wasn’t there to promote Autostraddle, or ask them to be my Twitter friend. I wasn’t there to talk about music, either. Talking to musicians about their music always feels awkward when I spend my life talking about it behind their backs, on this website.
When I think about Tegan and Sara, those thoughts aren’t often about the music. It’s not always my jam. But I do think about their impact on their fans, like how their music makes young queers feel better about the feelings they feel and about taking up space in the world. I don’t know if that was intentional but it’s indisputable, and so important, and if I had to communicate my respect for that in under 90 seconds, I guess maybe all I wanted to do was shake Tegan and Sara’s hands.
Unfortunately, that would still leave me with 85 seconds to kill.
My panic attack was interrupted the whirlwind arrival of Tegan and Sara, who simultaneously sucked the air from the room while charging it with a million volts of charisma. They seemed so genuinely thrilled to be there!
When the first fan approached Tegan and Sara, the room fell dead silent. Everyone was eavesdropping on a nervous attempt at conversation. It was awkward as hell. I tried to contribute some white noise.
“It’s a million degrees in here.”
The girl beside me smirked. She said, “I know what you mean, they’re gorgeous.”
Except she didn’t know what I meant, because I didn’t mean that. It was seriously warm inside. I removed my jacket for the seventh time that evening and my blood was still at a slow simmer.
People eventually started chatting again. A group of queer individuals started devising a game plan: who would walk up first, who would pose first, who would say what. They had their shit together. I was jealous. The one with the most alternative of hairstyles joked, “don’t hit on Sara in front of her girlfriend, you guys.” I had no idea which girl in the room was Sara’s girlfriend but good on her for not carrying a big stick.
Suddenly, it was my turn.
Sara and I shook hands. Firm grip. Friendly eyes. She said “Sara”. I said “Crystal.” She said “nice to meet you” and I repeated it back to her, maybe 2 or 3 times. She was wearing a leather jacket and olive green hi-tops with metal studs. She looked very cool.
I turned. “Tegan.” “Crystal.” Firm grip. Friendly eyes. Mission to shake hands: complete. I said “nice to meet you” only once to Tegan, but that didn’t make it any less true. I can’t tell you what Tegan was wearing because I had been glamoured (Twilight reference) by the impressive waves in her side fringe.
Tegan quickly established that I’d put minimal effort into attending.
“Do you live in Sydney?”
“Yeah.”
Turns out, the fans before me had flew in from New Zealand. I walked to the Opera House after work.
Sara said, “I really love your tattoo”.
Sara said other things as well, about shading and colors, but I was too distracted by some fairly serious eye contact to recall it verbatim. But I do recall my smooth reply.
“I am SO GLAD that you like it! THANK YOU for saying so!”
My out-of-character enthusiasm was, in retrospect, perhaps a subconscious attempt to compensate for my geographic privilege.
Tegan laughed at my intense gratitude for Sara’s tattoo compliment. I tried to reclaim my chill by panning, “I didn’t do it, though.”
Sara said, “Well… yeah…”
The “duh” was delivered tonally.
The rest of her sentence was drowned out by the sound of my dumb comment crashing and burning. Tegan began miming someone trying to tattoo their own shoulder. We lol’d. I gave her silent thanks.
Sara, who was not at all ready to move on, observed that my tattoo created a nice contrast to my all-black outfit. She couldn’t have know that my predominately black wardrobe was, in fact, my primary motivation for choosing an insanely bright floral tattoo. In that moment I’d never felt so seen.
Tegan asked whether I’d seen them in concert before.
“I saw you perform last night.”
In retrospect, many true statements could have followed. Like “I had a nice time!” or “I Couldn’t Be Your Friend” is pretty great live!”. Literally anything would’ve been better than what happened, which was me leaving the confirmation of my attendance awkwardly hanging in the space between us.
Tegan, my social savior at this point, jumped in with an explanation of how this concert would be different to the previous night’s. I listened attentively. Sara countered that, actually, it won’t be different at all. I panned another joke, something about how no-one ever stands up at the Opera House. They laughed. Nailed it.
“Let’s take a photo!”, Tegan said.
My farewell was neither proper nor dignified. As soon as I heard the camera shutter click and felt Tegan and Sara’s arms start to relax along my back, I threw a quick wave in their general direction and bolted for the door.
One of them called out after me. “Have fun!”
In the corridor outside, two long-haired lady ushers were hypothesizing about the maintenance requirements of Tegan and Sara’s haircuts. Soon enough, they escorted me back to the concert hall, to join the non-VIPs. As I took my seat, I noticed that the lanyard around my neck had two fresh autographs. I have no idea when that happened.
The concert started. I did have fun.
xoxo
Dear Crystal,
can you just write all the things all the time? Please?
Love,
Ali
I know the experience must have been mortifying for you, but I was cackling aloud while reading this. (Can Crystal write letters about everyone she meets now? Everyone.)
I too am sometimes mortified by the thought of what I would say if I ever were to meet Tegan and Sara or Rachel Maddow or Megan Rapinoe, and then I get reassured that I live on the other side of the planet and the chances of that are negligible. (Not at all pressed that I didn’t buy tickets for their performance in Singapore, not at all)
This is adorable.
I need to get a tattoo.
this is the cutest thing i have ever read.
also, reading this makes me feel really, really lucky you were one of my counselors at camp. because i get how quiet and soft spoken you are, and i am secretly terrified of everyone, and i doubt we would have spoken at camp if it hadn’t been for you being my counselor. and now i get to consider you my friend and i can read the great things you write on here and feel all proud and stuff.
aw jen
This was amazing. Definitely all of the awkwardness/awesomeness I would imagine meeting them would be. Thank you for sharing!
Also, are Sara and Tegan shorter than I realized or is Crystal taller than her gravatar made me think she was? :P
Both.
They’re really tiny!
I met them at an in-store a couple of years ago and other than feeling incredibly awkward and momentarily mute, I remember just fixating on how tiny they were. I wanted to store them in my pocket and take them with me.
def both. i am only 5’9/10-ish which never seems tall until i have my photo taken near less tall people.
this is 100% exactly what i would do, crystal. only i have no tattoos so there would be even more time to fill with nothing =O
Last year I met Christopher Paolini, who was my childhood crush because he wrote a book at sixteen, like hello, how is that not impressive? I thought I would be pretty cool about it because I am no longer mad-crushing on him and actually not a huge fan of his books anymore, but holy man was I wrong. I guess childhood crushes never go away? So I practiced what I was going to say to him over and over while waiting in line (which was “Thank you for writing books that I can share with my brothers because they never get excited about reading”), and it came out nicely but it only took about five seconds! But he was very friendly and asked me some questions and also complimented my tattoo (!!!).
So I guess what I am trying to say is thank goodness for cool celebrities who know how to casually converse with nervous fans, because if there had been an awkward silence I would probably have started crying or thrown up or maybe both.
i love the world through crystal’s eyes.
wait I thought this story was by you
This is so cute! Crystal you are the best!
This is the best.
I love how in the picture you look like the rock star and T&S the ones ridiculously excited to be having their photo taken with you.
yes!
“I nearly backed out because I’m shit at looking excited”
This is exactly how I would have felt! I loved reading this, thank you!
Aw I laughed four times
This is hilarious and awesome! You need to write about meetings with rockstars ALL the time!
I love that they ninja-autographed your lanyard.
This was so cool! Really funny and well written. I’m already jealous of your awesomeness and the fact that you live in Sydney and this is just one more thing.
I would have gone with “do you wanna see a photo of my cats?” Sounds like a solid ice breaker to me haha this was super dorky-cute though.
Aw, such a wonderful piece of writing. Love your writing style and I’m so jealous of you for meeting them!
ilu Crystal
10/10, would read this letter again.
I think you held it together pretty well. As another quiet type, this is the sort of thing I’d have had to get extremely tipsy for. Like, not quite drunk, but just on the borderline. That’s when I reach my peak of wit and chattiness (or so I like to imagine), but before I get to the point of obnoxiousness.
Oh my god i love Tegan and Sara they’re both my idols if i met them i would be so Exited aside from all of the screaming and smiling a lot but i don’t care i love them and i always will Tegan and Sara [please come to Saskatoon Saskatchewan and i REALLY WANT TO MEET YOU GUYS LIVE AND IN PERSON PLEASE] From Qwylynn Age 12
I felt so bad for you at how awkward this was but was laughing out loud the entire time. You’re adorable, please write more things like this!!!!!e
Crystal this was so funny I died at your box office moment
I am just recovering from this experience (LAST NIGHT). I also didn’t know what to say and seemingly decided to go with awkward staring. But Tegan said my name was pretty and that she liked my boots. Best night ever.
Best thing.
In that photo Tegan and Sara definitely look like Crystal’s groupies.
To be clear: I couldn’t pick either Tegan nor Sara out of a line up. Crystal I’d recognize from a mile away. She is my definition of “rock star”.
aw digger
Aw aww this is such a cute piece. So glad I could live vicariously through your letter.
Also so many asymmetrical haircuts and semi-formal blazers in that audience haha
This made me smile :)
Tegan and Sara really do know how to get closer! Seeing how they ninja signed your lanyard. haha
OMG.
Okay so, I have been working at a French/Spanish Bistro for three years as a server. We used to be located in a punk rock bar and I served some pretty cool people there, including Ivan Coyote.
When we moved to a up-and-coming trendy neighborhood, closer to the suburbs, the decor went up and notch and the clientele changed a little bit. Nonetheless, we have been getting tonnes of media coverage and awards.
I have (obviously) been a huge Tegan and Sara fan since I first saw them at the Winnipeg Folk Festival around 1999. As I grew up and came out, I feel like they have been with me every step of the way. I have seen them every time they have come to Winnipeg, and their concert for “Heartthrob” in February was no exception.
I bought tickets to the show the second they went on sale and gave them to my girlfriend for Christmas, as we are both big fans and made sure to book the day off of work. When Heartthrob came out I ordered it as soon as I could off of iTunes, hellbent on learning every word before their concert a month later.
I went and the concert was amazing and I drank too much beer and sang every word and cried and laughed and made out with my lady. It was awesome.
So fast forward exactly one week later. It’s Tuesday. Not a very busy night at the restaurant, so I’m usually the only server on. I love Tuesdays because I get to work with my worker “M” who is also a queer lady in our city and because it’s such a small scene we have a lot of mutual friends and a lot to talk about. We debriefed on the week before the tables started coming in and endured the kitchen staff poking fun at us while listening in to our conversation about the concert the previous Tuesday. There are two floors in the restaurant so we seat upstairs first. This particular Tuesday was unusually busy and we had a large reservation later in the evening so we had some overflow downstairs. I was in the weeds. (Server term for completely F***ING BUSY) Being the only server on, I was spreading myself thin and asked the bartender to take a few tables for me. I was closing out a bill when M runs up the stairs. I have been dreading this moment because this means my large reservation ha arrived downstairs. I groaned.
“Not now, M. Please no.”
“Emily, I don’t know how to tell you this…”
“Tell me what?!” I frantically replied while waving bills around like a madwoman.
“…It’s Tegan and Sara downstairs.”
“M, please don’t fuck with me right now. I’m busy”
“No, I swear. It’s Tegan and Sara downstairs RIGHT NOW.”
I looked up and I could see her shaking. OMG. Tegan and Sara are here. And I am serving them. Commence instant sweating, hyperventilation, squealing and everything else.
Okay, WHAT? Wasn’t I at their concert last week? What the heck were they still doing in WINNIPEG? I ran downstairs to the kitchen and had a fit.In a good way, but I had to keep it short because, duh, I’m busy.
Kitchen staff, “Emily, keep it in your pants and get back to work.”
I walked out as calm, cool and collected as I could possibly manage and was greeted by the friendly smiles of my celebrity crushes and their tour manager.
They were awesome.
T$S and crew had gone from Winnipeg to Alberta, and were driving back through Manitoba on their way to their first tour date in the states and had a night off. And they had come into MY restaurant!
They stayed for four hours and brought in the entire crew. Lights, sound, band members. They were all there. I couldn’t believe it! And to be honest, recounting it now I don’t remember very much except for floating around the dining room trying my damn best to make sure everything was perfect.
The chef and owner came out at the end of the night and everyone did a shot together. They closed the place down and were so lovely to serve.
Towards the end of their meal, Tegan got up to go to the washroom. My computer system just so happens to be in the hallway to the bathroom. So, as she was walking by – I tried to keep anything that might give me away as being completely and udderly obsessed with them out of my voice – and asked how the tour was going. What brings them back to Winnipeg? And would they PLEASE take a photo with me? Of course Tegan said yes and before they left she grabbed Sara and M took a photo my iPhone and I instagrammed the shit out of it.
Anyway. That’s that. Best serving experience ever. Awesome people. Awesome music. And I can totally relate to Crystal’s letter.
And of course, the photo evidence. Because there is no way my lesbros would believe me!
http://instagram.com/p/WgRbyot1hs/#
I met Tegan after a show in 2007. I had made them a cake and written a letter which I had handed to their merch girl. So I solved the “omg what do you say?!”-conundrum by asking whether they had gotten the cake and she was like “aww that was you? thank you.” She also said “Don’t worry, we won’t sue you” because I had included my e-mail in the letter as a way to “get in touch in case they want to sue me if they got food poisening” (which was 50% joking and being clever/flrity and 50% me panicking they would somehow think I was an insane stalker type person. In hindsight including an email actually made it all seem worse, but fortunately they got the joke)
After the show me and some others also talked to several band members till 3 or 4am on the street in front of the tour bus. They gave us beer. It was a good night.
I met Tegan and Sara at an instore at JB hifi in Melbourne in 2006 (it was valentines day. It was hard not to make that weird) and I said I might see them at their gig the next night. Sara asked why I *might* see them and Tegan said “you’re underage and are gonna sneak in huh?” and then told me not to get caught and go to jail because bad things happen there. I got in the next night and Tegan said she was glad I was there.
Tegan also said she liked my shirt.
12 years later I think about that a lot.
I was such a baby gay.
This is a great story. I’m in awe of how well you handled it.