Dork Me Up, Scotty [ May 24, 2006, 1:43 am ]

"We're headed to the Comic Book Convention Saturday afternoon. You should swing by here early and go with us! It'll be fun!"

I paused for a second to consider Joe's offer before busting out in stomach-crunching laughter. Me? At a Comic Book Convention? The only comic books I read as a child had to do with the makeup misadventures of Betty and Veronica. The last thing I wanted to do on a Saturday afternoon was be cooped up in a convention center with a bunch of self-proclaimed dorks.

"But, Krissy! You're a dork, too! Just a dork of a different caliber." Joe had a point.

I considered it for a moment. The pros of heading to Detroit early included getting to see Joe for a few more hours. The cons...there weren't any. Not any good ones. How was I really going to spend Saturday afternoon anyway? Napping? Procrastinating instead of cleaning? Pretending to finish my unpacking? I sighed. "I'll come over early and go with you."

I almost instantly regretted saying that as we walked into the convention center the next day. My friends and I were flanked by wizarding-wannabes who pushed through the crowd to get into the arena two seconds earlier than the my friends. They were wearing robes. And snickering like they were in on some kind of in-joke that we weren't privy to. Joe, Andy (Joe's boyfriend) and I looked at each other. "Wooow," we said collectively.

"Boys, this could be interesting." I linked my arms through theirs and we stepped through the doors. Booths spanned the spacious center, all boasting great comic book deals! Superman! Spiderman! Anime! Manga! Playboy! (Why there were Playboy and Hustler stands, I'm still not sure. I thought the dorks got off on comic books, not porn.) I took it in for a second. Hundreds of guys flanked the stands and excitedly chattered about rare collectors issues and special guest appearances. People bartered and shouted at each other. It was chaos. It was crazy. It was dork heaven.

Andy poked me. "Honey, we're, like the most attractive people here!" He was right. There were close to no girls at the convention. And the ones that were there looked as though they'd never heard of accessorizing. While I couldn't compete with the comic book babes that had EE boobs, I was one of the hottest breathing things there. I giggled. I suddenly felt girly and attractive. My ego was further boosted as a few guys looked up from the comic book stands to blantantly stare. Comic book convention centers--the new place to boost one's self-esteem. Who knew?

We sauntered from booth to booth. I couldn't care less about the stands. People watching was what I was interested in. Some guys clutched their finds like they'd die if they lost their new-found treasures. Others slinked around looking like they were pissed at the world. Excited screams were occasionaly heard when something really good was found by a random rabid fan or another. I scanned the throngs. And then began laughing. While I expected to see dorkiness, I didn't expect to see full-frontal dorkiness to the degree that I did.

There, in front of me, stood Darth Vader. I dug out my camera. "JOE! I. Must. Get. A picture. With. Darth." I grabbed some members of my group, who were equally amused. Then my friend Jacob started giggling. "Screw Darth! Let's get a picture with that pig!" I looked up. Jacob was right. There was a horned pig decked out in full battle gear--complete with a battle axe!--walking around.

It only got better from there. Storm troopers soon invaded the arena, ready to take over the pending costume contest. A Wonder Woman wannabe flashed her bracelets, hairy legs and pouch while waiting for the judging. Blade's twin did a costume change and nearly sliced himself with his dagger. Darth's cousins loomed around. "Oh my gooooood," Andy breathed. "These people are HUGE DORKS."

I laughed. "I'm SO glad that I'm not as dorky as them. I've never dressed up--" I had to stop myself. I was lying. My friends and I have celebrated new Harry Potter books and movies by dressing up. And didn't I learn how to crochet just so I could make myself a Mark scarf for the movie opening of RENT? I was just like these people. I was as big as a dork as any of these people. I just like slightly more mainstream things.

I looked around again, this time my view was slightly different. These people were still dorks. They looked blissful, though. They embraced their dorkiness, just like me. (Although I embrace my dorkiness for things like 80s music, karaoke and Disney, not Darth Vader, mutant creatures or capes.) I was a dork, just as they were. But that doesn't mean that I'll be donning a Darth Vader helmet anytime soon. I'm still cuter than most of them.

Ciao, dahling!

~*Krissy*~

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