I painlessly went through process of getting my pro badge and headed outside to wait on a friend. I find the perfect spot for people watching, right next to an entrance and in the shade. People pass back and forth, some of them multiple times while looking for the right line to stand in, the right door to go in, or the right place to meet a friend who had picked up their badges for them. Costumed folk both worthy of Hollywood and worthy of pity entered and exited and dodged and said “sorry…excuse me”. Some people do that professionally I hear (cosplay that is) though I only know the names of one or two. One of those two wandered by as She-Ra followed not long after by an anonymous young girl in a much too skimpy getup holding a sign that reads: “Fat chicks cosplay too.”
It’s preview night–a mass of human movement, noise, and odors. Exclusives and limited edition items draw them in and I have a hard time imagining wanting something bad enough to endure it. Maybe it’s a personal defect on my part.
A text from my friend lets me know he’s ten minutes away. I’m in no hurry and want to get my money’s worth from the parking lot. Two young men with accents that I can’t pinpoint try to enter through a closed door. A security man tells them which door they need to enter, but they think he’s sending them to stand in another line. They eventually leave, needlessly disgusted.
Jet lag sets in and all of a sudden I want to rest and be somewhere quiet. My friend arrives, badges are exchanged, beers are drank and eventually I get on the freeway still feeling like I overpaid for parking.