A sad sci-fi con
Well, I didn't get to take Pickle with me and LabKat is saving her money for a trip to Alaska, so I ventured out to the free fan day to try and get a C3PO autograph and my photo made with him. The whole afternoon was a bust.
First off, it sucks to go to one of these things by yourself. Big time. Then, I piddled around (this is a Texas term for goofing off and doing really nothing productive, just FYI) and thought the autograph line looked ok, so I went to get into it. Unfortunately, it was a repeat from Ralphie's attempt to see Santa in "A Christmas Story." It wasn't the end of the line, but the beginning of it. I looked out a hallway and it was wrapping around the corridor. The worst part, this wasn't even all of it. The lady asked me if I had a number yet. Well, hell. I had been there 45 minutes and didn't get a ticket. So, I get a ticket. No. 311. What number are you on? 175, she tells me.
*insert deep sigh here*
So, how fast are they moving? Not very, she tells me. So, I estimated and did some math in my head (scary, I know.) and figured by the time we were at and when they started and I figured out the time a train going to Chicago would arrive if they left at 2:15 driving 65 mph. No, wait, that was a flashback to high school. Anyway. I did some ciphering in my head and figured out that they were going about 60 people per hour. At that rate, I would have to wait at least two hours and then I'd miss another one of Hot Rod's games and that was not acceptable to me. So, I go in and and try to snap a few pics of him signing for others. The lady in the shot very nicely asks me to stop, that he will take photos for free if I will wait in line. At this point, I'm ready to cry because I don't have time to wait in line for two hours.
So, I just left. I did get a few penguin beanie babies to give the kids for Valentine's gifts and a few cheap Xmen comic books, too. So, aside from this one picture, that was it.
First off, it sucks to go to one of these things by yourself. Big time. Then, I piddled around (this is a Texas term for goofing off and doing really nothing productive, just FYI) and thought the autograph line looked ok, so I went to get into it. Unfortunately, it was a repeat from Ralphie's attempt to see Santa in "A Christmas Story." It wasn't the end of the line, but the beginning of it. I looked out a hallway and it was wrapping around the corridor. The worst part, this wasn't even all of it. The lady asked me if I had a number yet. Well, hell. I had been there 45 minutes and didn't get a ticket. So, I get a ticket. No. 311. What number are you on? 175, she tells me.
*insert deep sigh here*
So, how fast are they moving? Not very, she tells me. So, I estimated and did some math in my head (scary, I know.) and figured by the time we were at and when they started and I figured out the time a train going to Chicago would arrive if they left at 2:15 driving 65 mph. No, wait, that was a flashback to high school. Anyway. I did some ciphering in my head and figured out that they were going about 60 people per hour. At that rate, I would have to wait at least two hours and then I'd miss another one of Hot Rod's games and that was not acceptable to me. So, I go in and and try to snap a few pics of him signing for others. The lady in the shot very nicely asks me to stop, that he will take photos for free if I will wait in line. At this point, I'm ready to cry because I don't have time to wait in line for two hours.
So, I just left. I did get a few penguin beanie babies to give the kids for Valentine's gifts and a few cheap Xmen comic books, too. So, aside from this one picture, that was it.
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