Convention Journal: Part 1

I’m darting through traffic of people at the con and barely make it outside in one piece. No time to catch your breath — round 2. There’s huge lines outside. There’s barely any walking space, but I’m somehow managing to cut through between people. One goal was on my mind: to get in line for the Iron Man 2 panel.

Around a corner and I see the queue. It’s nowhere near as bad as the line for Avatar — thank God. I get in line. There’s about 300 people in front of me — should be guaranteed seating.

In front of me are these very animated guys. One is a short Asian who talks excitedly about different things going on at the con. The other is a black guy wearing a du-rag, who is just as excited.

The heat is beating down on us in line, but we’re taking it in stride. A worker with a cart walks by selling water, but it’s only been half-an-hour, and I think I can last until I get inside Hall H. I’ll get some refreshments then.

Waiting wasn’t too bad since it’s always entertaining to people-watch at Comic Con; cosplayers are always passing by. There’s fewer this year, but the quality of their costumes has improved dramatically.

Looking over at the two in front of me, the black guy pulls out his cellphone. He presses a few buttons and music begins to play . . . j-pop starts blasting from his phone. It was unexpected and makes me chuckle. Now those within hearing distance get to listen to happy-go-lucky music while we wait. It helps pass the time; it helps us stay positive while the sun is unmerciful.

One of the workers in charge of the line walks by and a guy stops him. “That guy over there cut in line. No one knows him,” he informs the worker.

The worker walks over to the guy in question. “We can’t have you cutting. You need to go.”

“I’m only one person in a line of thousands — what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that people have been waiting over an hour in the heat. Go to the back of the line right now.”

The guy relents, and with a look of defeat, he leaves the line. The worker then resumes walking up and down the massive line.

45 minutes later the worker with the cart walks by. The heat is getting to me; I’m starting to feel dehydrated; I succumb. “Hey! I’d like to buy a bottle of water, please.”

“That will be 2 dollars.”

Damn . . . hella expensive, but at this point it’s a necessity.

“Do you have change for a 20?” I ask him.

“Oh, good! I can give you a bunch of ones — I have too many,” he exclaims counting out change, then handing it to me.

After some moments, the worker keeping an eye on the line is walking by again. A lady stops him this time. “Those guys over there — they weren’t there earlier. They cut.”

“Are you sure?” asks the worker.

Another person in line interjects, “I noticed it too.”

Walking over to the little group, the worker proceeds to boot them out of the line. It’s amazing to me how on top of things this worker is. He’s courteous to everyone, but to anyone who cuts, he becomes this hard-ass.

As unmerciful the line seems to be, we were looking out for each other. It’s approaching the 2 hour mark, and anyone in line who needs to use the bathroom, or buy food and drinks; we held their place in line.

After a few moments, the worker returns, asking for our attention. “If you are here to see the panel for Iron Man 2, you probably won’t see it . . . a panel just ended, and no one has left Hall H. It looks like everyone in Hall H are there for Iron Man. You can stay in line, but I’m just warning you.”

A few people looking dejected start to leave. Others looking worried stay in line, clutching onto hope and intent on making it to the panel. I’m one of those people. Because of this, my place in line is bumped up  to the first 250 people. There’s one more panel before Iron Man; there’s bound to be people leaving Hall H before it.

The worker returns and again addresses the crowd. “The last panel has ended, and only 20 people have left . . . I can only let 20 of you in. I’m truly sorry, but people in Hall H are there for Iron Man 2. After that, there will be the panel for Kevin Smith.”

Damn . . . .

I debate in my head whether I want to stick around or not. It’s been close to 3 hours, and I really didn’t want that time to be spent in vain. Droves of people are leaving the line and I find myself in the first 50. I heard before that Kevin Smith’s panels are always hilarious. Maybe it’ll be worth it. I suck it up and stay in line.

40 minutes later the Iron Man 2 panel comes to a close. Thousands of people pour out of Hall H much to the dismay of those of us in line. The worker returns for the final time to direct us into Hall H.

Walking to the entrance, a security person stops a man a few places in front of me in line. “Show me your badge.”

The man shows her his badge, his hand slyly covering the bottom portion of it. “Move your hand,” she sternly tells him. Apprehensively, he uncovers that part of the badge to reveal it is a void badge from the other day.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave right now.”

Those of us witnessing what has just transpired are amazed. Then of course we quickly forget as we walk into Hall H, workers inside asking if we need any water. It’s nice and cool inside, and I quickly find a seat and sit down. I’m exhausted and admittedly upset that I missed the panel I was in line for.

20 minutes into Kevin Smith’s panel (and him dissing Twilight, but then admitting his daughter loves it and needs to get her some stuff at the Con), a man approached the microphone and tells him, “Kevin, my wife made Twilight bags, and here’s one you can have.”

Keven tells him to get up on stage to sit with him. For the duration of the panel, Kevin would give the man random massages while answering questions. Another guy approaches the mic. “Kevin, can I sit up on stage with you two?”

“No. Why would I? I let this guy because he gave me a Twilight bag.”

“I’ll give you something!” the man retorts.

“Nah, man. I don’t want a hand-job. My wife’s right there.”

40 minutes later I leave Kevin Smith’s panel with my cheeks and sides aching from laughter. I may have missed Iron Man 2, but the wait was worth it for the hilarity that ensued at Kevin Smith’s panel. I’m definitely going to his panel again next year. You should too.