After a hard day of conventioning (yeah, all four hours and one panel of it), I needed to get out and hit the night life! What better place than a SF/fantasy con, because really, who else knows how to party like Klingons?
But I wasn’t after the free booze…I was after something more. Trophies of my con experience. I was after RIBBONS! Ribbons are a new part of the con game from when I dropped out of the circuit. They are a great way to meet people and spread the word about what you are doing and interested in. Shoot, I’m gonna get the super-size ribbon when I get In a Mortal Shadow out the door! They also appeal to me on a baser plane…she who has the most ribbons WINS! I didn’t win at Westercon; I didn’t win at Con-Volution 2013; I didn’t win at BayCon. But Convolution 2014, well that was going to be all mine. I was going to take home more ribbons that anybody…in my room. So when Carolyn crawled into bed with a good book, and Denise dragged her hubby off to Karaoke, I went party hopping.
I went to the party floor and started with the Wonder Woman party. I got a stamp. No ribbon. I hit a couple of more…again, stamps, but no ribbons. I didn’t know what these stamps were for but as I progressed I feared I might wind up looking more tattooed than beribboned…and I wasn’t out to win the tattoo contest! Finally I asked, “Why am I getting these?” Turns out it was so I could imbibe the alcohol. Well shoot, I didn’t want alcohol…I wanted ribbons! So that ended my tattooing for the evening.
I finally get to the Star Trek party…yep, you can always tell. Every Star Trek party I’ve ever seen has Klingons hanging out by the front door. These two were uncharacteristically friendly…maybe I should have gotten the tattoo at this stop and gotten happy too! But I was too distracted…they had RIBBONS!
Just inside the dark fabric-draped party room were a couple of folk who claimed to have ribbons, which apparently were in this man’s pocket, behind the wad of cash that was pulled out entirely by accident, or so was claimed…Hey this ain’t Vegas, babe. What happen’s at Con-Volution, plays at Con-Volution…and all over the Internet!
Hmmm…Interesting things happening here. Maybe I should stay at this party a little longer than the others…
And I did. I hung out with the Klingon’s at the door. So long as the Klingons are happy, a well-lit hall amids these warrior folk is a nice safe place to be.
This is an important consideration. The con was a dangerous place. The system lords were about, no doubt enslaving fellow con goers.
Apparently the same goal for this blue alien, who on Saturday carried off my roommate Carolyn, never to be seen again…until after the masquerade. The alien enslaved Carolyn to do unspeakable acts to her most alien body. For several hours, Carolyn had to paste tiny little lights all over the alien’s blue skin. Oh, the horror! But Ms. Blue certainly looked smashing on the stage all lit up!
If slavery isn’t horrific enough, this robot nearly had me as I wandered the halls. Looking for brains and body parts in its quest to become a cyborg.
Fortunately this pit of colorful camouflage was nearby to hide in. Either that or there were higher quality brains to be had (Maybe the system lord’s brain, for instance. Might explain his sitting in the color camo!)
But even as I hid, I was in fear for my life as laser bullets flew rampant over my head…Until this guy in blue and his Incredible red-headed partner disabled the gun in a pitched battle.
Safe at last up here on the party floor in the company of happy Klingons…until the Men in Black appeared.
As I was chatting, a squad of men wearing some top notch Men-in-Black costumes strode confidently down the hall. They were so good, I was about to compliment their attire. I mean they looked good. People even gave way and hugged the walls where they passed. Then I noticed the Men in Black were ripping down banners, door decorations, and the party flyers announcing which party you were passing. These Men in Black were playing real bad dudes!
They stopped at the Star Trek party to talk to me, the Klingons, and a few others. “You have to take those flyers and that door cover down,” the overly serious Big Man in Black said.
“Why?” I asked. (I’m a little challenged at minding my own business. I know, I’m working on it)
“Hotel policy. No posting in the halls.”
“But it’s the party floor,” I objected.
“No posting bills allowed.”
“But it was allowed last year.” Anyone see anything wrong here? I’m not even throwing a party, and I’m grilling the Men in Black…I should have just faded back into the dark of the Klingon party.
“No posting bills allowed.”
Hmm…he seems to be stuck in a logic loop.
“But how will I know what party is in the room?”
He reaches over and rips a paper off the wall. He points at the door covered with a full length mural. “That has to come down.” When the guy with the stamps at the door agreed, the Big Man in Black stomped off down the hall followed by his storm cloud of an entourage, the woman in tow with a fistful of ripped flyers.
They left the small party at the door scratching their heads wondering what just happened. It was the topic of conversations off and on through the con. The hotel, who had allowed it last year, sent the Men in Black squad out to take down 8.5 X 11 sheets of paper posted outside of rooms they had sanctioned for the very use. A very petty thing to do, Hyatt Burlingame. Sheesh, lighten up! At the very least, next year, how about showing us SF fans a little respect when you send your Men in Black after the Klingon contingent and arm them with phasers. Preferably ones with sound effects.
Oh, and hand out a few ribbons, too! ‘Cause I intend to win my ribbon quest again next year!