Whovians at Wizard World: Tales from Comic Con, 2016 Edition
Hello again, dear readers! It's been just over a week since I went to the con, so I should probably compile my account of it before the events start to fade from memory. It may be a little verbose, but if you expected any less from me, you don't know me very well.
Knowing that the convention center opened its door at 10 a.m. on Saturday and it would take us at least two hours to drive to Austin, we originally planned to leave Houston at 8 a.m. That time, however, wound up being when we were showered, freshened up, and in costume...and we still had some errands to run before we could leave. First, we loaded Amy's dog Evey into her car and drove to the house of a friend who had agreed to watch her for a day, almost getting in wrecks with two people whose brains were apparently still lying on their pillows along the way. Afterward, we stopped by the vet to get some new medicine for Evey, which Amy hoped would prevent her from chewing up her crate like a rodent (and subsequently making her gums bleed). In the lobby of the vet's office was a cage containing an adorable black kitten named Randy, who liked exactly like I imagine Kendall looking when he was 8 weeks old. He mewed loudly when he saw me, purring audibly when I stuck my fingers between the bars of his cage to pet him and playfully swiping at me with claws too weak to break skin. When I withdrew my digits, he climbed into one of the upper corners of the cage like a chimpanzee and pleaded in his high-pitched voice for more attention. Had I had a good home to give this kitten, he would have come with us, but I had to bid Randy farewell as we left with Evey's medicine.
Next, we needed breakfast, so we popped into a Starbucks for drinks and the Kolache Factory next door for food. We then stopped by the bank so Amy could withdraw money, and returned to her apartment so we could get our passes for the con and move to my car. We left town around 10 a.m.; most of the drive was uneventful, and it paled in comparison to Amy's drive from Hamilton, Ontario to Houston, Texas, but there was some good conversation and pretty scenery along the way. About 30 minutes outside of Austin, we stopped at a Buc-ee's to get some bottled water and use the restroom (and stare longingly at their myriad flavors of gourmet fudge), and were checked out by a cashier who admitted to being a Whovian as she complimented us on our costumes. She turned green (or at least pale olive) with envy when we told her we were going to Comic Con, but wished us a safe and fun trip as we left.
In Austin, I drove through a construction zone that had narrowed a street down to one lane and spent about 15 minutes searching for a parking spot within easy walking distance of the convention center. I finally pulled into a hotel parking garage and parked in one of the first non-reserved spaces I could find, hoping that no tow trucks would abscond with my car before we returned. We walked a few blocks through the damp heat of Austin, then stepped into the cool dry corridors of the convention center and walked halfway around the building in search of the exhibition hall. We followed the cosplayers and their enthusiastic conversation to the back of the security screening line, took our places, jumped between lines several times, and got complimented by another group of con-goers on our way to the metal detectors. My sonic screwdriver didn't trip any sensors, but the clasps on my suspenders did, and the security guard waved me through after sweeping his wand over me. We walked across the massive entryway to reach the booth that would furnish our admission bracelets, and one of the workers told me that she mistook me for Matt Smith when she saw me approaching. Promising start, I thought.
With bracelets on our wrists, we entered the exhibition hall, a warehouse-like room full of tables, racks, and walls like those of an office cubicle, all of which were laden with art and merchandise. Several computers had been set up for an Overwatch tournament, which was being broadcast on a giant screen, and console gamers were playing Street Fighter V nearby. Stages for guest speakers and performers had been set up on opposite sides of the hall, and curtains concealed spaces reserved for celebrity photo ops along the wall opposite the entrance. We spent several minutes walking around to get our bearings, taking photos with cosplayers portraying the Mario brothers, (part of) the Addams family, a young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, and David Lo Pan as we wandered, as well as Mr. Stay Puft and Ecto-1. We knew our top priority going in, so we found a sign promoting photos with Matt Smith and Karen Gillan and talked to a nearby attendant, who pointed us to another booth. We bought a photo op there, and were instructed to line up and be ready for it at 3:20.
It was around 1:30 at this point, so we had ample time to explore. We looked at artwork, jewelry, action figures, weapons, and steampunk clothing and accessories as we walked about, and also saw a couple of R2-D2 replicas, which were no doubt on display to commemorate the passing of Kenny Baker. I took a picture of Amy with one of them while we were waiting to get some henna tattoos, then stepped up and tried to "repair" it with my sonic screwdriver, which eventually caused it to scream. Satisfied that my work was done and concerned about whether or not we'd have time to get our bodies painted before we had to line up for the photo, we continued our wanderings and got two photos of an R2-D2 built from salvaged parts as it rolled randomly around. I also got some photos of Kylo Ren and two Jokers with the Riddler, but there were so many Harley Quinn cosplayers that I couldn't decide which one to shoot.
At one point, Amy had to use the restroom, and I waited chivalrously outside for her to finish. While I did, I was approached by a tall, thin girl with an impish face who didn't look a day over 18. "Excuse me," she greeted. "I have to ask: are you Bill Nye or the Eleventh Doctor?"
It was bound to happen eventually. But at least she asked, unlike I did when I once misidentified a girl who was dressed as Arucard from Hellsing. (She responded with a death glare when I called out, "There's Carmen Sandiego!")
"I'm the Eleventh Doctor," I responded, attempting to affect Matt Smith's accent.
"In that case," she said, "I want to give you a hug, because he's one of my favorites." She threw her arms around me and hugged me with the strength of a boa constrictor, then disappeared into the restroom with a smile. Amy came out shortly thereafter, which saved me from having to explain something potentially awkward.
After a little more walking about, getting pictures of Silent Bob and Admiral Ackbar cosplayers, and trying to find a gift for Amy's sister Abby, it was almost time for our much-anticipated photo. On the way, however, we were stopped in front of a desk situated by a TARDIS. One of the people working the desk complained that he'd paid $1400 of parking tickets on my behalf (for which I thanked him), and the other asked us if we'd be interested in getting a photograph inside the TARDIS. The opportunity was far too good to pass up, so we took her up on it and followed her instructions as we posed for a photo. We then had to find a bag for our swag, because carrying around an unframed photo would not be conducive to keeping it in a condition worthy of being posted to a Flickr album. With less than 10 minutes to spare before we had to get in line, we walked back toward the entrance, grabbing a couple of free bags from a booth where a woman was handing them out. The timing couldn't have been better, and soon after, we found ourselves standing in one of eight lines of con-goers who wanted photos with Matt Smith, each of which was around 100 bodies long (and one of which included the girl who had approached and hugged me, with whom I exchanged smiles). We spent around 20 minutes waiting for the lines to start moving; while waiting, Amy took two selfies and read while I tried not to gag at the smell of curdled milk that was emanating from one of the other people in line. The lines moved surprisingly quickly once it came time for photos to be taken, and as we prepared to step behind the curtain, one of the attendants rattled off a list of rules:
Finally, a good 30 minutes after lining up, it was our turn to stand alongside Matt Smith. He was shorter than I imagined, but cordial and friendly. "Hi, how are you doing?" he asked, not really waiting for a response as the cameraperson prepared to shoot. He put an arm around each of our shoulders, and we tried our best not to explode with joy as we struck poses and were forever immortalized in a photo with him. Amy had to stop herself from putting her arm around Matt's waist, as she remembered the attendant's warning and didn't want crack teams of ninja bodyguards to descend upon us and forcibly remove us from Matt's presence before we got to soak up some of his aura.
Seconds later, we heard a "Next, please!", which was our cue to leave. "Have a lovely day," Matt said with a smile as we gathered our belongings. We looked over our photo and ordered some digital downloads of it so we'd both have access to it without a scanner. Curiously enough, both Amy and I thought that we looked terrible and the other looked great (despite the fact that I look like I'm ready to drive my sonic screwdriver into someone's eye socket)...and Amy, whether due to wishful thinking or perhaps due to keen observational skills, was convinced that Matt was pleased that we were dressed appropriately. Regardless, we got a photo with him, which will make an excellent conversation piece for years to come.
At this point, it was nearly 4 p.m. and we were hungry for lunch. We made our way to the food court, where Amy ordered a salad and I ordered a water and some chicken soft tacos topped with shredded cheese, cole slaw, and a sauce that resembled light green ranch dressing. There were no chairs nearby, so we sat on the floor to eat, and I learned after we finished eating just how much of a pain it can be to move from sitting Indian style to standing while wearing suspenders. We wandered a little more, and I got two pictures taken with a girl whose wheelchair had been customized for a Davros cosplay along the way. Back at the henna booth, we didn't have to wait to get painted, and Amy got some stars on her arm while I got a TARDIS in a starry sky on my hand. We then took one more look for the perfect gift for Abby, which Amy found right after starting to despair that the con had it. She needs to start despairing about winning the lottery. I'm sworn to secrecy, but knowing what little I do about Abby, I know she'll be thrilled to see her gift.
Finally, at 5:15, we had seen and done everything we desired at the con and decided to head out. My car hadn't gotten towed, but traffic was godawful and the number of street closures didn't make things any better. We got back to Amy's apartment complex shortly after 9 p.m., where we admired our swag from the con and had an impromptu photoshoot before parting company for the evening. (More accurately, Amy shot some photos of me - she didn't want to appear in any more photos while she was in costume.)
All in all, our time at the con was short, but very satisfying. I didn't see anyone I knew from South Korea, San Marcos, or Austin as I did back in 2012 (as my old friend Evan may recall), but I got a photo with one of the most renowned celebrities there and had delightful company for several hours. Amy and I received a lot of compliments about our costumes and how well we complemented each other, and not a single person asked us if she was bigger on the inside. I'm glad for that - I would have hated it if I'd had to punch somebody in the face, or use my sonic screwdriver as an improvised shiv.
Who knows? Maybe, in 2017, we'll go to Anime Matsuri together...if I can find any anime that can maintain her interest.
Knowing that the convention center opened its door at 10 a.m. on Saturday and it would take us at least two hours to drive to Austin, we originally planned to leave Houston at 8 a.m. That time, however, wound up being when we were showered, freshened up, and in costume...and we still had some errands to run before we could leave. First, we loaded Amy's dog Evey into her car and drove to the house of a friend who had agreed to watch her for a day, almost getting in wrecks with two people whose brains were apparently still lying on their pillows along the way. Afterward, we stopped by the vet to get some new medicine for Evey, which Amy hoped would prevent her from chewing up her crate like a rodent (and subsequently making her gums bleed). In the lobby of the vet's office was a cage containing an adorable black kitten named Randy, who liked exactly like I imagine Kendall looking when he was 8 weeks old. He mewed loudly when he saw me, purring audibly when I stuck my fingers between the bars of his cage to pet him and playfully swiping at me with claws too weak to break skin. When I withdrew my digits, he climbed into one of the upper corners of the cage like a chimpanzee and pleaded in his high-pitched voice for more attention. Had I had a good home to give this kitten, he would have come with us, but I had to bid Randy farewell as we left with Evey's medicine.
Next, we needed breakfast, so we popped into a Starbucks for drinks and the Kolache Factory next door for food. We then stopped by the bank so Amy could withdraw money, and returned to her apartment so we could get our passes for the con and move to my car. We left town around 10 a.m.; most of the drive was uneventful, and it paled in comparison to Amy's drive from Hamilton, Ontario to Houston, Texas, but there was some good conversation and pretty scenery along the way. About 30 minutes outside of Austin, we stopped at a Buc-ee's to get some bottled water and use the restroom (and stare longingly at their myriad flavors of gourmet fudge), and were checked out by a cashier who admitted to being a Whovian as she complimented us on our costumes. She turned green (or at least pale olive) with envy when we told her we were going to Comic Con, but wished us a safe and fun trip as we left.
In Austin, I drove through a construction zone that had narrowed a street down to one lane and spent about 15 minutes searching for a parking spot within easy walking distance of the convention center. I finally pulled into a hotel parking garage and parked in one of the first non-reserved spaces I could find, hoping that no tow trucks would abscond with my car before we returned. We walked a few blocks through the damp heat of Austin, then stepped into the cool dry corridors of the convention center and walked halfway around the building in search of the exhibition hall. We followed the cosplayers and their enthusiastic conversation to the back of the security screening line, took our places, jumped between lines several times, and got complimented by another group of con-goers on our way to the metal detectors. My sonic screwdriver didn't trip any sensors, but the clasps on my suspenders did, and the security guard waved me through after sweeping his wand over me. We walked across the massive entryway to reach the booth that would furnish our admission bracelets, and one of the workers told me that she mistook me for Matt Smith when she saw me approaching. Promising start, I thought.
With bracelets on our wrists, we entered the exhibition hall, a warehouse-like room full of tables, racks, and walls like those of an office cubicle, all of which were laden with art and merchandise. Several computers had been set up for an Overwatch tournament, which was being broadcast on a giant screen, and console gamers were playing Street Fighter V nearby. Stages for guest speakers and performers had been set up on opposite sides of the hall, and curtains concealed spaces reserved for celebrity photo ops along the wall opposite the entrance. We spent several minutes walking around to get our bearings, taking photos with cosplayers portraying the Mario brothers, (part of) the Addams family, a young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, and David Lo Pan as we wandered, as well as Mr. Stay Puft and Ecto-1. We knew our top priority going in, so we found a sign promoting photos with Matt Smith and Karen Gillan and talked to a nearby attendant, who pointed us to another booth. We bought a photo op there, and were instructed to line up and be ready for it at 3:20.
It was around 1:30 at this point, so we had ample time to explore. We looked at artwork, jewelry, action figures, weapons, and steampunk clothing and accessories as we walked about, and also saw a couple of R2-D2 replicas, which were no doubt on display to commemorate the passing of Kenny Baker. I took a picture of Amy with one of them while we were waiting to get some henna tattoos, then stepped up and tried to "repair" it with my sonic screwdriver, which eventually caused it to scream. Satisfied that my work was done and concerned about whether or not we'd have time to get our bodies painted before we had to line up for the photo, we continued our wanderings and got two photos of an R2-D2 built from salvaged parts as it rolled randomly around. I also got some photos of Kylo Ren and two Jokers with the Riddler, but there were so many Harley Quinn cosplayers that I couldn't decide which one to shoot.
At one point, Amy had to use the restroom, and I waited chivalrously outside for her to finish. While I did, I was approached by a tall, thin girl with an impish face who didn't look a day over 18. "Excuse me," she greeted. "I have to ask: are you Bill Nye or the Eleventh Doctor?"
It was bound to happen eventually. But at least she asked, unlike I did when I once misidentified a girl who was dressed as Arucard from Hellsing. (She responded with a death glare when I called out, "There's Carmen Sandiego!")
"I'm the Eleventh Doctor," I responded, attempting to affect Matt Smith's accent.
"In that case," she said, "I want to give you a hug, because he's one of my favorites." She threw her arms around me and hugged me with the strength of a boa constrictor, then disappeared into the restroom with a smile. Amy came out shortly thereafter, which saved me from having to explain something potentially awkward.
After a little more walking about, getting pictures of Silent Bob and Admiral Ackbar cosplayers, and trying to find a gift for Amy's sister Abby, it was almost time for our much-anticipated photo. On the way, however, we were stopped in front of a desk situated by a TARDIS. One of the people working the desk complained that he'd paid $1400 of parking tickets on my behalf (for which I thanked him), and the other asked us if we'd be interested in getting a photograph inside the TARDIS. The opportunity was far too good to pass up, so we took her up on it and followed her instructions as we posed for a photo. We then had to find a bag for our swag, because carrying around an unframed photo would not be conducive to keeping it in a condition worthy of being posted to a Flickr album. With less than 10 minutes to spare before we had to get in line, we walked back toward the entrance, grabbing a couple of free bags from a booth where a woman was handing them out. The timing couldn't have been better, and soon after, we found ourselves standing in one of eight lines of con-goers who wanted photos with Matt Smith, each of which was around 100 bodies long (and one of which included the girl who had approached and hugged me, with whom I exchanged smiles). We spent around 20 minutes waiting for the lines to start moving; while waiting, Amy took two selfies and read while I tried not to gag at the smell of curdled milk that was emanating from one of the other people in line. The lines moved surprisingly quickly once it came time for photos to be taken, and as we prepared to step behind the curtain, one of the attendants rattled off a list of rules:
- Don't hug.
- Don't kiss.
- Don't linger.
- Don't take any photos with your phones.
- Don't breathe in too deeply.
- Don't ask for any fluid or tissue samples.
- Leave your stuff on the table and take it with you when you leave.
Finally, a good 30 minutes after lining up, it was our turn to stand alongside Matt Smith. He was shorter than I imagined, but cordial and friendly. "Hi, how are you doing?" he asked, not really waiting for a response as the cameraperson prepared to shoot. He put an arm around each of our shoulders, and we tried our best not to explode with joy as we struck poses and were forever immortalized in a photo with him. Amy had to stop herself from putting her arm around Matt's waist, as she remembered the attendant's warning and didn't want crack teams of ninja bodyguards to descend upon us and forcibly remove us from Matt's presence before we got to soak up some of his aura.
Seconds later, we heard a "Next, please!", which was our cue to leave. "Have a lovely day," Matt said with a smile as we gathered our belongings. We looked over our photo and ordered some digital downloads of it so we'd both have access to it without a scanner. Curiously enough, both Amy and I thought that we looked terrible and the other looked great (despite the fact that I look like I'm ready to drive my sonic screwdriver into someone's eye socket)...and Amy, whether due to wishful thinking or perhaps due to keen observational skills, was convinced that Matt was pleased that we were dressed appropriately. Regardless, we got a photo with him, which will make an excellent conversation piece for years to come.
At this point, it was nearly 4 p.m. and we were hungry for lunch. We made our way to the food court, where Amy ordered a salad and I ordered a water and some chicken soft tacos topped with shredded cheese, cole slaw, and a sauce that resembled light green ranch dressing. There were no chairs nearby, so we sat on the floor to eat, and I learned after we finished eating just how much of a pain it can be to move from sitting Indian style to standing while wearing suspenders. We wandered a little more, and I got two pictures taken with a girl whose wheelchair had been customized for a Davros cosplay along the way. Back at the henna booth, we didn't have to wait to get painted, and Amy got some stars on her arm while I got a TARDIS in a starry sky on my hand. We then took one more look for the perfect gift for Abby, which Amy found right after starting to despair that the con had it. She needs to start despairing about winning the lottery. I'm sworn to secrecy, but knowing what little I do about Abby, I know she'll be thrilled to see her gift.
Finally, at 5:15, we had seen and done everything we desired at the con and decided to head out. My car hadn't gotten towed, but traffic was godawful and the number of street closures didn't make things any better. We got back to Amy's apartment complex shortly after 9 p.m., where we admired our swag from the con and had an impromptu photoshoot before parting company for the evening. (More accurately, Amy shot some photos of me - she didn't want to appear in any more photos while she was in costume.)
All in all, our time at the con was short, but very satisfying. I didn't see anyone I knew from South Korea, San Marcos, or Austin as I did back in 2012 (as my old friend Evan may recall), but I got a photo with one of the most renowned celebrities there and had delightful company for several hours. Amy and I received a lot of compliments about our costumes and how well we complemented each other, and not a single person asked us if she was bigger on the inside. I'm glad for that - I would have hated it if I'd had to punch somebody in the face, or use my sonic screwdriver as an improvised shiv.
Who knows? Maybe, in 2017, we'll go to Anime Matsuri together...if I can find any anime that can maintain her interest.