Lateshoes

Now, where was I? 

Oh! yes, we were on our way to the MST3K reunion line (2 hours early, I should point out). We got to the ballroom and were promptly, metaphorically bitch-slapped by another Dirty Harry security dick.

Us: Did you just say the line was closed?

Dick: THERE IS NO LINE.

Us: What?

Dick: THE LINE IS CLOSED.

Us: Wait – so, the line is closed?

Dick: THERE IS NO LINE.

Us: But, wait – so is this the line for the Mystery Science panle?

Dick: YES! THERE IS NO LINE. IT’S CLOSED. THERE’S TOO MANY PEOPLE. BLAH BLAH BLAH. 

*Sidebar – this fucking VIsa commercial where Morgan Freeman tells us about the runner who “didn’t finish first…or second… but, he…AND his father, finished.” It’s emotional terrorism. I get teary on command every time it comes on and when I remember it’s a fucking Visa commercial, I feel like a stranger just jammed their thumb up my butt. 

Anyway, so slightly defeated we sat around for a minute, before remembering that we have balls and that we don’t take shit, from glorified Michael Chickless impersonators. We decided to find the end of the line and stand in it. Take that. 

Luckily, on our way outside the building and presumably out into the street we found Debra (Lars and James’ highschool friend). She sweetly allowed us to join the line with her. Now, I realize that butting 5 people into a line is kind of rude, but line etiquette, as we all know it, allows friends to save spaces and places and that’s just the way the fricking world works. It’s happened to me a million times, waiting in nerdy movie lines. But, apparently the rules of the universe don’t apply to a dipshit Torgo impersonator and/or his apparently mute, hairy-backed brother – who were so pissed that they bitched for the entire two hours… even AFTER we let them get in front of all of us. 

They kept turning around and giving us shit looks and mumbling..and talking shit to anyone who would listen. Let me repeat myself – this was AFTER we let them go in front of us. Let it go, Torgo. How can someone so obsessed with a comedy show have NO sense of humor?

10 years later, the line that wasn’t a line started to move and unbelievably we got closer and closer to the entrance. That’s when the panic set in. Holy shit – they’re actually counting every person now – holy shit, holy shit… 21, 22, 23, 24, …. holy shit, holy shit…. 31, 32 (Torgo and shitbird are in), 33 (me), 34 (Brooke)… 

I turned around to make sure everyone else in our and Debra’s party were getting in and uttered, “Oh man, I’d feel so guilty if…” and before I could finish the sentence, Shitbird turns around and says, “WHAT? If those people don’t get in because you cut in line!”

Like – as we’re fucking going into the ballroom. I leapt to the most obvious response, “Fuck you, asshole.”

BUT, we were in! So fuck ‘em. 

7:45pm- The MST3K Reunion Panel. It was awesome. Mostly because none of us could believe they were all right there, in the same room with us. Even Tom Servo. Nerds. 

9pm – Kayla (James and Brooke’s and now my friend) had a great idea. She decided to get a “bathroom pass” for that ballroom so we can help out some poor soul in the next enormous line. So, we ran to the other side and started scoping out prospects – until we find the perfect guy, who is actually in line by himself. Kayla gave him the pass, but he was skeptical (for like a second). Once we turned around to make our way back to the crew, he finally understood what was what and started hauling ass to the door. Good karma all around. 

9:20 ish – San Diego Critical Mass has completely corked up the gaslamp district and specifically, the Con crowd. At first we were cheering them on. Hey – we’re all bike riders, woo hoo!! But, as pedestrians, we just wanted to cross the street so we could go to a place that wasn’t a convention center, a place where we could eat something called real food. So, James and I busted a move when the light changed, when all of the sudden Critical Mass decided to mass up our walking asses. What the hell? I’m not a car. They were totally biking right into our knees and acting like total fucknuts. 

We walked many blocks back to the car and finally ate some yummy food. 

Comic-Con was awesome, but it’s not the end of the story. 

TO BE CONTINUED

On the way to San Diego we watched an episode of Angel and I had a teeny tiny nervous breakdown.

There was a very, very weird flight attendant who looked a little like Valerie’s husband on t.v.’s Valerie.

We were at the very front of the plane, so we got to sit across from him. It was awesome because I could never look directly ahead because he would consistently try to catch my gaze. BOO!

The plane finally landed and I took this picture in the Buca di Beppo bathroom in the “gaslamp” district. I know – it’s not very original, but it did the trick for two strangers in a strange town.

James picked us up and took us to our host, Ann’s house. We did some hanging and then went straight to bed to prepare for our big, nerd day.

9:30-ish in the morning we arrived and picked up our badges.

*James and Brooke (our amazingly sweet Comic-Con benefactors) look through their shwag.

At approximately 9:45 – I lost my badge.

9:50 – James discovers Starbuck’s ass at the SciFi Channel booth.

9:55 – Lars and James find Jaba. He was just chillin.

*10:00 – Brooke and I begin our quest to get me a new badge. This seems like it would be easy, but after asking 16 different “security” donkey-fucks, who had no idea what to tell us to do, it turned into a much longer adventure. I mean, it seems only logical that more than just little ol’ me, would lose their badge at such a chaotic and busy event, right? So, one may assume they would be prepared for the question, “What do I do if I’ve lost my badge?” But, no. In the end we had to go all the way back to registration – to the “Badge Resolution” booth. (Or something like that – I’ve honestly blocked some of this out). After a hefty wait and $7, I was presented with a shiny new badge and a brief scolding to not lose it again…even though they fully admitted to most likely giving me a faulty lanyard in the first place. Whatevs.

Yes! There were THIS many people… and yes, I still enjoyed myself.

James spotted Mark Sheppard, AKA “Romo Lampkin” from BSG at the SciFi booth. When we asked if we could take his picture he sort of rolled his eyes, sighed and said, “Uhh, just take it.” He was so NICE!!!

We met the Owl ship from Watchmen.
I impersonated the Owl ship.

After a good amount of time exploring the Expo or “the floor” as we geeks like to call it, and being man-handled and bumped up against approximately 900 times – we made our way upstairs to stand in a 2 hour line to see Joss Whedon & co. at the Dr. Horrible panel.

*The dumb part is, we had been in the very front of the line. Well, James was in the very front of the line, so we thought – hey, we’ll go check out the “Gay Legion” panel while he sits here for a bit. Only, while we were enjoying our homo-awesome panel, James texted to say that they let him him already and that we should hurry back and get in line. First, we tried sneaking in – (we’re talking about ME, people – I mean, please, I had to try) BUT, we got magnificently busted by some Dirty Hairy security hack with a headset, so off to the back of the line we went. Within 5 minutes our “back of the line” turned into the dead, early middle. Nerds love their Whedon. Here is what the line looked like:

*The panel was fun, but the room was ginormous, so the whole thing felt a little surreal and weird. Joss & Co. were cute and funny, but it was kind of a dicksuck fest in the end – which has got to be a tired routine for someone like him. I mean, he is a frickin’ genius. I’m on board with that, but still, enough already. Dr. Horrible is awesome and you should download it from iTunes this instant – just don’t call up Joss Whedon and refer to his “verse” or I’ll have to put your balls in a vice. This is what the Dr. Horrible panel looked like (some pics are from the gigantic screen and one is of our “actual perspective”):

After Joss we headed to the Lynda Barry panel, which was seriously phenomenal…and kind of criminally easy to get in to.

*Lynda Barry was by far my favorite panel at “the CON.” She was funny and warm and nervous and brilliant, but more than that – she was inspiring. As James said, “she alone was worth the price of admission.”

After Lynda Barry, we went back to “the floor” to look around…and I for one got more than I bargained for. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that there are girls, women, etc.. who roll around “the Con” in teensy, weensy outfits doing all they can to entrance the nerds into photographing them. One such feeemale was in the bathroom, top down – wiping the sweat off of her fake teeters with a paper towel. I violated her privacy by taking this blurry photo. (She’s behind me in the white cheerleader skirt)

After I got to see a girl’s cans, Lars got to see Matt Groening at the FOX booth. (That’s him in the background). *This is more our style of “celebrity” photography. We’re more drive-by shooters, which is admittedly almost as lame, but at least Matt never had to say, “Uhh, just take it.”

After finding some amazing “indie” scores on the floor (*including our “igloo tornado” Hall & Oates t-shirts), we headed up to the MST3K 20th Anniversary Reunion panel. So young, so innocent. We had no idea that standing in a 3 hour line could be so dramatic.

TO BE CONTINUED.