![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Convention stories?
As I'm working on beating this Can't Sleep Con Will Eat Me prose thing into shape, I want to hear your favorite stories from conventions! Any type of convention, any type of story, either weird things, funny things, etc. Feel free to link me to con reports or whatnot.
Here's one from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
myrialux in return:
This happened years ago at a tiny con that fell apart after this. It was held at a small hotel in Dallas that had been bought out, rumor had it, by the guru that the Beatles followed. At anyr ate, two things were true:
(1) it had originally been a Hilton, and the new owners were too cheap to get a proper sign, so they changed one letter in "Hilton," so that the hotel was now the "Hiltop"
(2) hotel management forbade congoers from going down a particular hall, apparently because that's where the guru's followers were.
myrialux was working Security there. As were most of the staff and quite a few of the attendees. This con was almost "Hello, welcome to the con, here is your personal Security person." myrialux was assigned to roving security, as they had people on all the doors already and didn't know what else to do with him. He had to walk the con, looking for people who were breaking stuff and whatnot. As part of his rounds, he had to go down an L-shaped hall, beyond which the con attendees and staff members were not allowed to go, and make sure nobody was breaking that rule.
So one of his trips down the hall, he turns the corner and there, right near the boundary beyond which they dare not go, was someone I'll call B, as I know he's attempted to put his sordid past behind him now that he's married and with kids, and I shall not make him Googlable. B was standing there, staring up into the air, transfixed. And possibly stoned.
myrialux approached him. B turned, fixed myrialux with a beady eye, reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling myrialux close to him, and demanded, "TELL ME YOU CAN HEAR THE MUSIC!"
myrialux hadn't noticed any, but paused for minute and there, drifting down the hallway, just at the edge of hearing, he could hear what sounded like faint strands of Indian music. So he nodded and said, "Yes, B. Yes, I can hear the music."
Here's one from
myrialux in return:This happened years ago at a tiny con that fell apart after this. It was held at a small hotel in Dallas that had been bought out, rumor had it, by the guru that the Beatles followed. At anyr ate, two things were true:
(1) it had originally been a Hilton, and the new owners were too cheap to get a proper sign, so they changed one letter in "Hilton," so that the hotel was now the "Hiltop"
(2) hotel management forbade congoers from going down a particular hall, apparently because that's where the guru's followers were.
myrialux was working Security there. As were most of the staff and quite a few of the attendees. This con was almost "Hello, welcome to the con, here is your personal Security person." myrialux was assigned to roving security, as they had people on all the doors already and didn't know what else to do with him. He had to walk the con, looking for people who were breaking stuff and whatnot. As part of his rounds, he had to go down an L-shaped hall, beyond which the con attendees and staff members were not allowed to go, and make sure nobody was breaking that rule.So one of his trips down the hall, he turns the corner and there, right near the boundary beyond which they dare not go, was someone I'll call B, as I know he's attempted to put his sordid past behind him now that he's married and with kids, and I shall not make him Googlable. B was standing there, staring up into the air, transfixed. And possibly stoned.
myrialux approached him. B turned, fixed myrialux with a beady eye, reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling myrialux close to him, and demanded, "TELL ME YOU CAN HEAR THE MUSIC!"myrialux hadn't noticed any, but paused for minute and there, drifting down the hallway, just at the edge of hearing, he could hear what sounded like faint strands of Indian music. So he nodded and said, "Yes, B. Yes, I can hear the music."
no subject
one of the GoH, as I much later found out he was prone to do, kept hitting on the female staffers. he was being very obnoxious about it to our club president...right in front of her fiance (they were married later that year.) said SO was not pleased.
the people I had to deal with at the reg desk were also all sorts of special. "Don't call me sir, there should be no social divisions in fandom." >_>
on the non-ranty end, the guys at No Brand Con taking a smoke break with a giant Mokona plushie ("It's for my wife, she had to work.") were amusing. Mokona had his own badge, but wasn't allowed to smoke.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Speaking of cons, what merch would you suggest for a 2-day that I think is going to skew on the younger side. I've ordered button supplies because I figure selling cheaper things is going to go over better with kids.
no subject
no subject
Convention stories?
Favorite con story... Hmm. There are so many.
Re: Convention stories?
Re: Convention stories?
You should hit up Sancho privately. I doubt he'll post anything here, but if memory serves, he got into some weird situations doing overnight security.
The origin of this year's ConDFW staff shirt was pretty good.
I have tales from the two epic road trips we made to DragonCon while I was a student, but I'm going to have to confer with
Re: Convention stories?
no subject
This is a story from my girlfriend instead of myself! She was at a con once (I think maybe a Harry Potter con?), at a party where she didn't know anyone. She happened to be standing next to a girl who was cosplaying and who had one of those Japanese ball-jointed dolls, dressed to match her own outfit. So my girlfriend says to her, "I like your doll". And the girl says, "Thanks! They've helped me a lot." My girlfriend, knowing this is probably a bad idea, says, "Helped you with what?" "Well, I'm a pre-cog," the girl says. "And so I had seen that I was supposed to die next year. But working with the dolls has really helped me, and so I've managed to change it from suicide to just a brain anuerism." "Oh," my girlfriend. "That's, uh, really great for you." And then she fled the scene.
no subject
Dude, where's my con?
One worker played the "kung fu hampster" song over the push-to-talk bricks to break the silence and some of the tension, but we still weren't sure what was going on....
Only to discover shortly after that one of the morning's panels, which we knew was happening but had not looked in on, had swallowed the contents of the convention... congoers and much of the staff... due to its speaker, the convention Guest of Honor. Activity resumed as normal once the panel let out. I can only imagine that room was like a sardine can, despite being a decent sized room.
Re: Dude, where's my con?
no subject
My friend Shen, who is Midwestern and VERY WELL endowed, was cosplaying as Tsunade from Naruto one year. Someone who we liked to refer to as Creepy Iruka spent about half an hour telling the two of us stories about drunken con orgies that he'd been to, and then asked Shen if he could take her picture. She agreed, because she again is Midwestern and has no creep filter.
He talks her into different poses for a few pictures, each one dirtier than the last, then finally asks her to take a kunai and stick it in between her boobs. "Oookay..." she replied, and went with it. Apparently, she wasn't placing the kunai just right, because he shook his head and reached for her breasts, saying "No, no, like this."
In a split second, I jumped from my chair and smacked his hands away, shouting at him random things like OH MY GOD WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING DON'T TOUCH THOSE. He literally ran away.
Conventions have given me a very high creeper radar. :) I knew in particular this guy was up to shenanigans because a) orgy stories, and b) even though I was dressed as Sakura from Naruto, he never once asked for a pic of us together. That's not me being conceited - it just shows me from experience that the photo motivation is all about the boobs.
Also, my same friend once went to a comic book convention and was asked by a random dude if he could take her picture. She wasn't in costume, and told him as much. "That's okay," he replied. And she let him do it. Urgh. Perhaps not quite as creepy, but worthy of a headshake.
no subject
She took off at high speed and told the guys at the demo who formed a search posse and looked for him, but didn't find him.
(She also, when in college and walking to her boyfriend's dorm with her inkle loom, was attacked by a mugger. She whacked him with her inkle loom - and as she grew up on a farm mucking out stalls, she has some pretty impressive upper-body strength - and took off running. Alas, he also had escaped once the campus cops bothered to get off their asses and go look.)
no subject
no subject
no subject
But, boy, if you where there! Man!
no subject
We cheered her, and welcomed her to the club.
no subject
It's a subtle process, no? You go along your merry way and do what you do, not noticing the sparkle in your eye dim nor the skip in your step slow, until you wake one morning with a groan about what the next generation is doing wrong and knowing they will not listen... just as you once did not.