Chapters 9, 10, and Epilogue
The end is here
Chapter 9: Chris and the Great Glass Elevator
Elevators are amazing places. Where else can you stand still and talk to a new bunch of random strangers every few seconds? I entered car one and sat back. Every sort of people came and went: cosplayers, ravers, fat guys delivering liquor, parents angrily retrieving their spawn, and even furries.
When it's late enough at night, furries come out of hibernation. In case you've not been paying attention, furries are a bunch of folks who wish they were animals. They draw anthropomorphic images of foxes with fifteen breasts and eight penises "yiffing" each other. Some get off with stuffed animals (plushies) and others wear modified mascot costumes (fursuits) and go at it. Normally, they keep to themselves and congregate only online or at the occasional furry-specific convention. Many also like anime, but their presence wasn't blatant until the evening. I learned this when one of my first elevator visitors was wearing an additional name badge. It said "furvert." He was greasy and looked about seventeen. I avoided eye contact and continued my ride. Before the night was up, I'd see many of his breed.
Furry Vash, oddly, was not out at night
Talking to riders taught me random bits of information. Telling them I was riding the elevator somehow made me cool enough to tell things to. Before it was done, I'd heard about how nearly every single floor was "THE party floor," despite my findings to the contrary. More than a few gentlemen of all ages pointed out how awesome the glass elevators were for looking down shirts and up skirts. I told you this was a pervert convention.
Sometimes, hotel security would get on the elevator with me and ask which floor I was waiting for. I picked a random number and left when it got there, pressing the button and waiting for an alternate car to ride. Some dude had previously responded that he'd been riding the elevator until they'd kicked him out, so I evaded the man by pretending to be legit. I realize it's terribly lame, but even such minor acts of deviance against weak authority can give more excitement than sleeping. After everything had been shut down and the crowds thinned, I gave up and crawled back into my sleeping bag.
Chapter 10: Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!
Sunday began six hours later with another screech from Bubbles. Our first event was "cosplay winners," what we originally believed to be when the costume contest's results would be announced. In actuality, it was a panel for people to ask the winners questions about their costumes and learn how to make better ones. Because we thought the event would be dead, the original plan was to have us guys ask them questions about how much caulk was involved in the creation of their costumes, content in the knowledge that lots had been used to glue different parts together. However, it turned out to be rather crowded and that'd be more embarrassing than funny.
Elsewhere, the con was dead. People had already taken off and there wasn't anything to do but shop or watch anime. After checking the dealer room for last-minute deals, we loaded up the car and checked out.
A bit hungry, we elected to eat in the food court before the drive. As usual, the Chinese place had a massive line. Asian food sells well at a convention of Japanophiles-who knew? But, Subway wasn't doing too bad either. Photographers overran the seating area, refusing to even wait for their targets to put down the sandwich before snapping a shot. Who wants a picture of Cloud using a cell phone and eating cheese steak? It takes anachronism to new levels.
At that point, it was time for Allison to go home. Her parents had called on Saturday, going absolutely spastic that she'd come to the convention without their knowledge and was, on top of that, planning to be in the car with us while driving home through the hurricane. It doesn't occur to some parents that their kids lie or don't tell them things because they'll just freak out and behave irrationally otherwise. Living in Atlanta, they angrily demanded she come home with them or she'd be cut off. After a few hours of crying on the phone in the bathroom, they'd agreed to give her until Sunday so she wouldn't screw over her friends' chances in contests they'd entered as a group. When the time came, we said goodbye. They spent a couple hundred dollars on last-minute tickets to fly her home after lecturing about how going to Atlanta in the first place wasn't showing fiscal responsibility. Awesome.
Our cars drove an uneventful few hours south toward our room in some small interstate town near Tifton, Georgia. Still wearing cat ears and tails, Miko, Amanda, and Ben went inside and checked into our $40 Econolodge accommodations. The plan for this evening was: having nothing else to do, we'd get drunk in the hotel room. But the redneck conservatism we'd been laughing at throughout the drives got its revenge; you cannot buy alcoholic beverages in Georgia on Sundays.
Myself wearing the Yuna wig in front of the Econolodge
We sat in the room and Amanda and I eventually went to the office to use the computer and check on the storm status. It was down to merely a tropical storm, but still sounded scary enough to make us glad we'd gotten the room. It was also moving too slowly to pass us overnight, so our choice was to either drive through it on Monday or wait another day in this boring town and miss Tuesday's classes.
While doing the research, I asked the hotel clerk about restaurants in the area. Our interstate town had all varieties of fast food, a Cracker Barrel, and three Mexican restaurants. She went on to complain about how the town sucks and there's nothing to do; she wanted to move someplace with a nightlife. The most exciting thing in this town had been a movie theater, but after its owner fired the janitor, he came back and shot him. My first question was if they'd caught the janitor. They did, but the business was ruined. It sold tickets to new movies for a dollar for a while before dying entirely, much to the desk lady's dismay. We thanked her for the information and rejoined the others.
With nothing else to do, we decided to go eat at a Mexican restaurant. On the way, we passed a store with a display of camo-painted hunting tower things along the road. I wanted to duck to avoid getting sniped or something-Crazy rednecks. The Mexican place was pretty uneventful, but we were in good spirits and enjoyed boisterously talking about the finer points of hentai while eating.
On the way back, we hit a food store to stock up on bottled water in case the worst happened during the drive tomorrow. Ben attempted to buy some beer, only to receive confirmation that we couldn't. The store also sold some curious beverage called "happy drink" that I took a picture of, but we elected not to drink it.
Happy Drinks!
We got back to the hotel room and watched an anime called Fruits Basket about a schoolgirl living with a bunch of people that change into animals when touched by someone of the opposite sex. It's a cutesy, girly show, but was somewhat amusing at times. Again, there wasn't anything else to do. Miko and Amanda went outside to talk to their boyfriends on the cell phones for a few hours, leaving the rest of us little recourse but to simply fall asleep once the show ended. Tomorrow would be a long day of driving through a friggin' hurricane. Sleep was a good idea.
Epilogue: Rock You Like a Minor Thunderstorm
As much as I'd love to have an amazing conclusion to this story about human perseverance in the face of Mother Nature, our storm by this point was nothing. I drive through worse wind and rain every day during the Florida summer. The trip was entirely uneventful as we talked about random stuff for the rest of the way. It's a good thing Allison's parents decided to FLY her through the hurricane on Sunday instead of waiting for us to drive through its weakened Monday state. Surely that was a good use of money and an inherently safer option.
Just drivin' in the rain
What happened to each of us? We arrived around 6pm Monday evening and went back to our respective apartments. It was all over. I called my parents and told them I wasn't dead before going on the internet, eating dinner, and getting the hell to sleep. Class would be tomorrow. Joy.
I learned a lot that weekend and returned with my fill of the crazy stories I'd gone for in the first place. While in the car, I offered to Miko and Amanda that at future conventions, I'd wear whatever they wanted so long as I didn't have to spend any of my own money or effort on it. They were pretty excited about the prospect, much to my surprise. It sounds like, for the next con, I'm going to end up as either Tidus or some nearly naked dude with clouds covering my naughty bits. It should be another bizarre experience, anyhow. I guess it won't hurt to see things from the perspective I missed this time.
So that is my awesome story. I needed to write it for myself, but if you were entertained also, then that's all the better. Perhaps you were, like me, educated on some aspect of con culture. Perhaps you were simply scared of these crazy folks and are vowing to never go near them. Whatever the case, I hope you have enjoyed. Thanks for reading.
Chapter 9: Chris and the Great Glass Elevator
Elevators are amazing places. Where else can you stand still and talk to a new bunch of random strangers every few seconds? I entered car one and sat back. Every sort of people came and went: cosplayers, ravers, fat guys delivering liquor, parents angrily retrieving their spawn, and even furries.
When it's late enough at night, furries come out of hibernation. In case you've not been paying attention, furries are a bunch of folks who wish they were animals. They draw anthropomorphic images of foxes with fifteen breasts and eight penises "yiffing" each other. Some get off with stuffed animals (plushies) and others wear modified mascot costumes (fursuits) and go at it. Normally, they keep to themselves and congregate only online or at the occasional furry-specific convention. Many also like anime, but their presence wasn't blatant until the evening. I learned this when one of my first elevator visitors was wearing an additional name badge. It said "furvert." He was greasy and looked about seventeen. I avoided eye contact and continued my ride. Before the night was up, I'd see many of his breed.
Furry Vash, oddly, was not out at night
Talking to riders taught me random bits of information. Telling them I was riding the elevator somehow made me cool enough to tell things to. Before it was done, I'd heard about how nearly every single floor was "THE party floor," despite my findings to the contrary. More than a few gentlemen of all ages pointed out how awesome the glass elevators were for looking down shirts and up skirts. I told you this was a pervert convention.
Sometimes, hotel security would get on the elevator with me and ask which floor I was waiting for. I picked a random number and left when it got there, pressing the button and waiting for an alternate car to ride. Some dude had previously responded that he'd been riding the elevator until they'd kicked him out, so I evaded the man by pretending to be legit. I realize it's terribly lame, but even such minor acts of deviance against weak authority can give more excitement than sleeping. After everything had been shut down and the crowds thinned, I gave up and crawled back into my sleeping bag.
Chapter 10: Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!
Sunday began six hours later with another screech from Bubbles. Our first event was "cosplay winners," what we originally believed to be when the costume contest's results would be announced. In actuality, it was a panel for people to ask the winners questions about their costumes and learn how to make better ones. Because we thought the event would be dead, the original plan was to have us guys ask them questions about how much caulk was involved in the creation of their costumes, content in the knowledge that lots had been used to glue different parts together. However, it turned out to be rather crowded and that'd be more embarrassing than funny.
Elsewhere, the con was dead. People had already taken off and there wasn't anything to do but shop or watch anime. After checking the dealer room for last-minute deals, we loaded up the car and checked out.
A bit hungry, we elected to eat in the food court before the drive. As usual, the Chinese place had a massive line. Asian food sells well at a convention of Japanophiles-who knew? But, Subway wasn't doing too bad either. Photographers overran the seating area, refusing to even wait for their targets to put down the sandwich before snapping a shot. Who wants a picture of Cloud using a cell phone and eating cheese steak? It takes anachronism to new levels.
At that point, it was time for Allison to go home. Her parents had called on Saturday, going absolutely spastic that she'd come to the convention without their knowledge and was, on top of that, planning to be in the car with us while driving home through the hurricane. It doesn't occur to some parents that their kids lie or don't tell them things because they'll just freak out and behave irrationally otherwise. Living in Atlanta, they angrily demanded she come home with them or she'd be cut off. After a few hours of crying on the phone in the bathroom, they'd agreed to give her until Sunday so she wouldn't screw over her friends' chances in contests they'd entered as a group. When the time came, we said goodbye. They spent a couple hundred dollars on last-minute tickets to fly her home after lecturing about how going to Atlanta in the first place wasn't showing fiscal responsibility. Awesome.
Our cars drove an uneventful few hours south toward our room in some small interstate town near Tifton, Georgia. Still wearing cat ears and tails, Miko, Amanda, and Ben went inside and checked into our $40 Econolodge accommodations. The plan for this evening was: having nothing else to do, we'd get drunk in the hotel room. But the redneck conservatism we'd been laughing at throughout the drives got its revenge; you cannot buy alcoholic beverages in Georgia on Sundays.
Myself wearing the Yuna wig in front of the Econolodge
We sat in the room and Amanda and I eventually went to the office to use the computer and check on the storm status. It was down to merely a tropical storm, but still sounded scary enough to make us glad we'd gotten the room. It was also moving too slowly to pass us overnight, so our choice was to either drive through it on Monday or wait another day in this boring town and miss Tuesday's classes.
While doing the research, I asked the hotel clerk about restaurants in the area. Our interstate town had all varieties of fast food, a Cracker Barrel, and three Mexican restaurants. She went on to complain about how the town sucks and there's nothing to do; she wanted to move someplace with a nightlife. The most exciting thing in this town had been a movie theater, but after its owner fired the janitor, he came back and shot him. My first question was if they'd caught the janitor. They did, but the business was ruined. It sold tickets to new movies for a dollar for a while before dying entirely, much to the desk lady's dismay. We thanked her for the information and rejoined the others.
With nothing else to do, we decided to go eat at a Mexican restaurant. On the way, we passed a store with a display of camo-painted hunting tower things along the road. I wanted to duck to avoid getting sniped or something-Crazy rednecks. The Mexican place was pretty uneventful, but we were in good spirits and enjoyed boisterously talking about the finer points of hentai while eating.
On the way back, we hit a food store to stock up on bottled water in case the worst happened during the drive tomorrow. Ben attempted to buy some beer, only to receive confirmation that we couldn't. The store also sold some curious beverage called "happy drink" that I took a picture of, but we elected not to drink it.
Happy Drinks!
We got back to the hotel room and watched an anime called Fruits Basket about a schoolgirl living with a bunch of people that change into animals when touched by someone of the opposite sex. It's a cutesy, girly show, but was somewhat amusing at times. Again, there wasn't anything else to do. Miko and Amanda went outside to talk to their boyfriends on the cell phones for a few hours, leaving the rest of us little recourse but to simply fall asleep once the show ended. Tomorrow would be a long day of driving through a friggin' hurricane. Sleep was a good idea.
Epilogue: Rock You Like a Minor Thunderstorm
As much as I'd love to have an amazing conclusion to this story about human perseverance in the face of Mother Nature, our storm by this point was nothing. I drive through worse wind and rain every day during the Florida summer. The trip was entirely uneventful as we talked about random stuff for the rest of the way. It's a good thing Allison's parents decided to FLY her through the hurricane on Sunday instead of waiting for us to drive through its weakened Monday state. Surely that was a good use of money and an inherently safer option.
Just drivin' in the rain
What happened to each of us? We arrived around 6pm Monday evening and went back to our respective apartments. It was all over. I called my parents and told them I wasn't dead before going on the internet, eating dinner, and getting the hell to sleep. Class would be tomorrow. Joy.
I learned a lot that weekend and returned with my fill of the crazy stories I'd gone for in the first place. While in the car, I offered to Miko and Amanda that at future conventions, I'd wear whatever they wanted so long as I didn't have to spend any of my own money or effort on it. They were pretty excited about the prospect, much to my surprise. It sounds like, for the next con, I'm going to end up as either Tidus or some nearly naked dude with clouds covering my naughty bits. It should be another bizarre experience, anyhow. I guess it won't hurt to see things from the perspective I missed this time.
So that is my awesome story. I needed to write it for myself, but if you were entertained also, then that's all the better. Perhaps you were, like me, educated on some aspect of con culture. Perhaps you were simply scared of these crazy folks and are vowing to never go near them. Whatever the case, I hope you have enjoyed. Thanks for reading.