from Ew! Comic Books!
I attended the Wizard World Philadelphia comic con last weekend, and there were plenty of highlight-making moments that could be number one. It could have been hopping into the passenger’s seat of the 1960’s Batmobile and rolling out every single “Holy!” line that Robin once uttered. Or it could have been attending the hilarious Adam West panel. Or it could have even been when I watched a bunch of Star Wars nerds stage a very uncoordinated light saber battle.
“If they’re going to be virgins for life, you’d think they’d at least be good at this,” one woman onlooker quipped.
But none of these stood out as the number one highlight of the convention for me. No. Instead that prize belongs to the experience I had in the venue’s men’s bathroom. Yes, you read that right. The bathroom– the place I consider to be a black hole of misery wrought by the germs of number one and two. If my bare skin were touch any surface ranging from the door handle to an uncovered toilet seat, my hypochondria would Hulk out, and I’d have to rush home to my shower and WASH! WASH! WASH!
But, regardless, I had some pleasant surprises.
On one trip, I got to wash hands with John Schneider aka Johnathan Kent (sorry, I’ve probably only seen one episode of the Dukes of Hazard). I had to fight like all hell not to ask him how he could raise a son, who thinks all problems can be solved by anticlimactically flying through them.
But the moment worth having came during my first trip to the men’s room.
While I was waiting to wash my hands (which one too many nerds did not bother to do), the guy who had been stationed at the sink I was eying, turned to me and asked:
“Hey, dude, can you unzip me? I really have to take a dump.”
Which, indeed, would have been impossible for him to do, since he was wearing a black, blue and silver unitard. I had no idea who or what from the comic book world he was supposed to be. And with the costume’s zipper placed behind him, he had no idea how he was going to relieve himself without having a major catastrophe.
“No problem,” I said without hesitation, and I unzipped him.
The stranger gave his thanks, and I left the bathroom with a wide smile, not only because I couldn’t wait to tell my finance that I just unzipped some dude out of an unitard in the bathroom, but because the guy himself had not even blinked at the thought of asking me. He hadn’t been cautious about it at all. It was all so…normal.
And that’s what I love most about such group gatherings like a comic book convention. No matter the differing levels of nerdiness- whether you’re the nerd from which no obscure Star Trek reference can escape, or the nerd, who only buys one comic book a week, we are all kindred spirits. We all share a core interest, and that’s enough to make us completely comfortable with one another at these events.
And that guy in the unitard was completely comfortable enough to ask me to unzip him. And I was completely comfortable enough to oblige. Was I proud of myself? Yup. And so was Darksied, who was kind enough to give me a fist bump right outside of the men’s bathroom: