This weekend Justin and I went to 90scon which we had really been pumped about. Our anniversary is in early March, this was our belated celebration (three years together). I had never been to a con this big. Everywhere I turned there was tie dye clothing, horror themed memorabilia, stickers and toy. There was a place for photo ops and autographs. I was planning on which celebrity I would wait on line for. Would it be David Archetta who played the goofy Deputy Dewey in Scream? Or Robin Turney who played the hero in The Craft? I approached the lady doing photo ops and asked how much a picture with the cast of The Craft would be. $215. Um, no.
Here’s the thing about photos and autographs. I’m not going to disparage people who get them. But I much rather get a T-shirt, something you can wear and show off, a conversation starter. I got two T-shirts: one was “Randy’s Rules” (you’ll know what I’m talking about if you ever watched Scream) and another was a red and white crop top that says “Scream Queen”. There was a similar one hanging next to it saying “Gore Whore” but I decided I didn’t want my parents to kill me just yet (I still have to get my tattoo when I’m thirty).
Conventions are interesting studies in human nature. The vendors are friendly (and usually talented), the other costumers apologize if they elbow you and some people dress up in cool costumes (there was alot of tie dye). No one gets weird looks in a Con, only compliments. But Justin and I didn’t stay the whole day. We went back to the hotel which was the biggest I’ve ever stayed in. It even had a dishwasher and a stove.
That evening we were having dinner in New Haven with two friends. We parked in a parking garage on t he seventh floor (which we thought didn’t much matter because there was a elevator). But after dinner when we tried to leave there was some holdup and we ended up stuck in line to get out for an additional two hours which Justin had to pay for. The worst part was some kids sitting on the hoods of the car, smoking weed and drinking beer, blasting rap music and pouring Nitro inside the car to rev the engine even though clearly no one was going anywhere. Justin and I were not happy.
But this is more than a little familiar. Justin and I always have misadventures. Like the time we visited Mystic and it was pouring until our socks were literally plastered to our bodies from puddles and rain water. Or when we went to Hershey and I had such a bad headache I almost threw up at the restaurant. Or the time we drove to the American Dream Mall and my mom called me to tell us to come home immediately as soon as we arrived because I had forgot my birth control. Or the time I got manic in Baltimore. If our misadventures stopped, it would actually be spooky because we are so used to them. Call them relationship enhancers if you would. Anyway, what a great weekend. Because I was with him.
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