At Hombre's staff's suggestion, I'm reposting this Chat post in the trip report section so I can include photos. Once again, I apologize if I offend anyone. "Not!"
Jag
On Saturday, I planned to meet a friend in Philadelphia because he was in town for some Wizard Convention. I never suspected that he played Basketball for the Washington team because he’s about six feet tall and white, but what the fuck do I know? Regardless of my ignorance of his athletic prowess, I still ventured downtown to meet him despite the fact that I knew nothing about basketball, the teams or his personal statistics. The convention opened its doors at 10:00 AM so I figured I’d get there at around 9:45 A M and wait with the small number of players for the doors to open. At that time of day, I should be able to waltz right in, see my friend and leave, then return in the evening and take him out to dinner. I was confident that this was a simple yet effective plan that couldn’t possibly spin out of control like all the others.
Before going downtown, I stopped at Starbucks and got a cup of coffee. I always ask for a “large” size not Venti, just to fuck them up because I hate using a foreign language when ordering coffee. Since my pocket was full of change, I decided to pay my bill with eight quarters. Something in the back of my small reptilian brain told me that this was definitely a smart move, so I did it. When I got downtown, I found a parking space about two blocks away from the Pennsylvania Convention Center, so I pulled into it and parked. As I exited my car, some idiot homeless guy approached and asked me for money. I told him I didn’t have any change and that’s when he mouthed off and said, “Well, you’re going to need a shit-load of quarters for the parking meter.” “Do you happen to have change for a Ten?” I inquired. “Nope,” was all he said. “For some reason, I knew the answer before I even asked you that question,” I told him. God Damn it!
Okay, I found a convenience store nearby, went in and bought a fucking soda and got some quarters as change. After filling the meter, I sauntered over to the Convention Center to find about 10,000 idiots waiting in line. As I walked by smoking and drinking coffee (I think that combination is called a whore’s breakfast), I got the strangest looks from a weird assortment of individuals. About half the people in line were dressed up like Storm Troopers in Star Wars, Superman, Batman, Robin, Spider Man and a variety of other comic book characters. Obviously, this wasn’t a professional basketball convention, but what the fuck was I getting myself into, I wondered? If you guys think I looked out of place wearing my blazer into Help, you should have seen me at this convention. As you know, I have this amazing ability to blend right in and become almost invisible, but this would certainly test my skills. Needless-to-say, I was going to flunk this test miserably. Maybe I better consider plan “B!”
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a plan “B” ready, but I figured I’d get in my car and find a place for breakfast and rethink my strategy. At around 11:00 A M, I returned to the exact same parking space only to find that I left all my change as a tip for the dumb waitress. Another fucking soda later and I was stuffing quarters into the meter. Why me? As I approach the Convention Center, I can see that everyone has gone inside, which is a good sign, isn’t it? When I walk inside, I find out that about 5,000 of these fucking idiots are standing in a single file line to buy tickets. That’s when I see an Advanced Sale Ticket Booth at the other end of the Center and decide to get in quickly using my fool-proof scheme.
Now you shouldn’t try this unless you’re a professional and know exactly what you are doing, but I’ll tell you how it works anyway. If you get into trouble, don’t blame me. First, you stand by the Advanced Sale Ticket Booth and wait for someone to pick up their tickets. Typically, they will give their name and a confirmation number as they get their pre-paid tickets. Remember how many digits are in the confirmation number and a few minutes later go up to the booth, give them your real name and a fake number containing the same number of digits. Always give them your real name because, if you don’t things can quickly go down the toilet. I made that mistake once and things turned to “shit” in a fucking heartbeat. Fortunately, the cop had a great sense of humor, but I never did get in to see that Broadway play. Where was I? Oh yeah, reliving another fucking nightmare in my life. Sorry for digressing; now back to my story.
When the ticket agent gives you a confused look because they can’t find your tickets, just stare them directly in the eyes and say, “If my secretary screwed this up too, I’ll fire her.” You’ll be amazed how effective this simple statement can be; it immediately elicits compassion, which in turn gets you exactly where you want to go. Of course you’re going to have to pay for the ticket, but at least you avoid the whole fucking line. I just love working this scam but, unfortunately it’s the only one I know that works.
Three minutes later, I’m $25 lighter and walking into the exhibit area grinning from ear to ear and happy as a lark. However, my senses weren’t adequately prepared for what assaulted my eyes. It was a fucking “freak show.” I’m sorry if I offend anyone (no, I’m not because I offend everyone), but I felt like I was on another world. Now, that I think about it, that precisely what these idiots wanted me to think. I must have seen 1500 Star Wars Storm Troopers, including a fat one. Funny, I never saw a fat one in the movie, but there it was standing there like it owned the fucking place. There was even a Burger King Storm Trooper! Oh, by the way, Darth Vader was there too, just in case you were wondering. I took some pictures that I’ll try to post, but don’t count on my technical skills.
I met up with my friend and I found out that he was there signing autographs because he’s a mixed martial artist or something like that. I guess that’s why we get along so well, he’s mixed martial and I’m always “mixed up.” Anyway, he took me for a walk around the place and I was surprised at what a wide assortment of stuff was for sale at this crazy show. For example, if you need a full-sized Predator head, they have it! Want a laser sword? They’re all over the place. How about some Dungeons and Dragons poker chips? What color would you prefer? I didn’t even know they made these kinds of chips, let alone that you can get your choice of color.
Star Wars is clearly the favorite of these nutcases. Christ, they had Hans Solo and Luke Skywalker Action Figures all over the place. Why is it that when I was a kid, things like that were called “dolls” and now, in our politically correct society they have suddenly become Action Figures? Strange, that we now have popular sitcoms about homosexuals yet won’t let our sons play with dolls, only “action figures.” Our society seems a little confused, doesn’t it? Anyway what really pissed me off was when I saw a display of Star Wars figurines (those are the little ones) that were exactly like the ones my son stupidly threw away. Holy shit! I paid a buck for them when he was a kid and now they’re worth anywhere from $12 to $24 apiece. Why is it that he never listens to me, but last month when I told him to throw out that stuff, he immediately complies? Because of what he does, sometimes I wonder if he really is from my loins, if you know what I mean.
As I was strolling around, I saw what I wanted. Shit, this was the perfect gift for either a male or female and I had to have one, it was a lifelike Yoda Backpack. Just as I was about to hand over my credit card, I saw something that made me feel a little tingly all over. It was none other than Noel Neill, the very first Lois Lane on the Superman series. I’m sure I squeezed a few off to her, if you catch my drift. Anyway, when I was eight years pre-pubescent back in 1953, she was about the hottest thing on black and white TV and that fact was clearly imprinted on my sub-conscience. This became self-evident when I got older and she was in reruns, because I would often pleasure myself to her image on the screen. That is if I couldn’t find my dad’s Playboys first. Why am I telling you this stuff? I don’t have a fucking clue! Where was I? Oh yeah, bitching about all these crazy freaks.
Next there was some semi-hot girl dressed up in a scant costume that I asked if I could take her picture. She responded that I could, providing I make a contribution. Now, I’m not stupid or anything like that, so I pulled out five singles and asked her if this was enough. “Sure,” she said as I dropped the bills into a cigar box. I looked in it and saw only three singles in it so I knew I overpaid. “I want ten fucking pictures I told her,” as I started snapping away. I’ll try to post her photo also, but don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t come up. As we were leaving some guy walked up to me and asked, “Do you know who I am?” “Of course I do and would you mind if I take your picture?” I asked. As I snapped the first picture, he asked, “Okay, who am I?” Mind you, this idiot is dressed in a tight fitting green outfit so I say, “You’re the Gecko from the GEICO commercials.” He started throwing a “hissy fit” and shouted out, “I’m the Green Lantern you jerk.” Oh yeah, I’m wearing khakis with a Brooks Brothers shirt and he’s wearing green tights. Who do you think is the jerk?
One thing I have to admit about these freaks—they are the most polite people you’ll ever meet. Despite the fact that I was dressed differently from most of them, they treated me with respect, which is more than I can say about some of the people I meet in Brazil. Then again, the people in Brazil have every right to treat me like they do because I occasionally do stupid things while in Rio.
The original Lois Lane
Dumb Storm Trooper
Two Nuts
Burger King Storm Trooper
Spider Asshole
Another Crazy
This girl cost me $5
Self Explanatory
Yoda Back Pack in action
Robin (I thought he was gay)
These guys were everywhere
It’s now in my living room
“Dolls” not Action Figures
Gratuitous Blonde
Princess Who?
Another Asshole
Crazy Gecko
