Con Mannerisms
So I hit up Comic-Con in my home town this weekend. Traditionally, I’ve
found the cons to be pretty boring events that have little to do with
my interests, but more and more, especially in this last year, the line
between comics, film and video gaming has blurred severely. Through a
good friend, I was able to bypass the annoying press registration
process and go straight to the head of the line as a porfessional
guest. No special treatment really, just free admission and a false
sense of importance.
I’ve been able to freely admit that I’m a nerd, a geek, and a 20
something year old who likes cartoons more than one my age should. I
found out this weekend that I’m far from alone…and I’m frightened.
There are those even further removed from societal norms. I speak of
those who willingly dress as their favorite super hero. Sadly, those
with the chutzpa to do this are not 20 something blondes with
supermodel bodies. These are overweight, hairy men AND women who have
no business wearing tights, spandex and/or anything that would expose
what once could be described as a mid-riff. These are scary individuals
whose stunning abundance of confidence and lack of public decency helps
to redefine the words “comic book freaks”. Heavy emphasis on that last
in the trio of nouns.
I made one other observation while I trudged through the exhibit halls
and avoided the $8 half-sandwiches the convention center cafes made
available. Humans have come to lose the concept of politeness. I’ve
never found it difficult to say “please”, “thank you” or “excuse me” if
a situation called for it. When did courtesy become some long-gone
notion of decades past? Naturally, a Saturday for any convention is
going to be a busy day and a lot of people are going to be moving
about. I can forgive the occasional bump by a bag or something, but
people were constantly backing into, running by, cutting in front of or
squeezing between me without the slightest hint of ‘excuse me’ or
‘sorry’. I got so sick of it that towards the end of the day I would be
the one vocalizing “Excuse You!” loudly and purposefully to get their
attention. So ‘I’ get the dirty looks?!?! You ran into me, you prick,
without a hint of remorse. Your in so much of a hurry that you can’t
apologize for ramming into the back of my leg, but if I make the excuse
for you, THEN you have time to stop to glare at me like I just called
your mother a whore or something?!?! Get a clue!
