Okay, so… slightly overstated and click-baity. Who I really met was Mark Pellegrino, who played Satan on the popular horror dramedy Supernatural. (You may have heard of it.) It was sometime between 2011 and 2014 (inclusive) because I was working offshore at the time, and we were off the coast of Brazil.
Now, this was at the airport, either in Rio de Janeiro or Sao Paolo (I can’t remember which) and I was somewhat aware that he wasn’t having a great time of it. There was some sort of convention he was on the way to, I think, because he was with people who were trying to resolve his issue—my money is on lost luggage, since he didn’t have any bags with him—and they wore lanyards with convention badge lookin’ things on them.
In any case, I recognized him right off the bat and ran up to say howdy-do, Satan-man, I love your show. I even have on my left palm the major elements of the intricate Devil’s Trap from the Season 1 finale, the one on Bobby’s ceiling. (The major elements, to me, are the heptagram and the scorpion, so that’s what I got. No more, because yowza did it fade fast. And I got it done twice. But I digress.)
Anyway, I flashed this at him and said how great he was doing as portraying the first fallen, blah blah, blaaah. He took it well, because he was in town for a fan thing anyway, and was friendly enough for being in a foreign country and suddenly bereft of worldly belongings.
And then, for no reason, part of my brain said to me, “Tell him you liked him in Battlestar Galactica, too.” And the rest of my brain answered, “but he wasn’t even in BSG. Was he? No. There’s no way. He was in an episode of Brimstone once, but I don’t think bringing up his portrayal as some kind of white supremacist is a good idea right now.” And that first part of my brain screamed I should JUST DO IT, TELL HIM HE WAS GOOD IN BSG, NOW NOW NOW.
So, hey, I did.
And you know what? His day got just a touch worse, because I could actually see it in his face. “This idiot doesn’t really know who I am,” it said to me. He gave me a short thank you, and waved, and turned away to deal with whatever it was he had to deal with, and I went on my way back to America. Of course, I chastised my treacherous brain the entire way, but it was content that it had gotten its way, no matter how wrong it was.
If anybody seeing this knows Mark Pellegrino, tell him I’m sorry. —TB