Day 1: It's 6:30am and I'm a zombie.
Insomnia is my middle-name as I stumble blindly around the bedroom. In a few hours I'll be working my first PAX Prime as part of GeeksOUT. Running a table in the Diversity Lounge. A room I've struggled to locate every year at PAX East. A place I've always managed to find at the end of the convention, on the last hour before the horn of reckoning sounds, despite my best intentions to visit early and buy all the swag.
This year I'd have first pick at swag, cause now I'd be rockin' an exhibitor badge. (More on this later, cause I've got some deep resentment toward that little piece of plastic.)
Steve and Tom show up all bright-eyed and ready to sort some shirts. Buddha Bear Bearington of Cat Manor (our resident Norwegian Forest feline) is non-plussed by this. He has reigned for the past week from the box tower and is loathe to give it up. Thankfully Tom bested him in a battle of wills, and Buddha presented his belly for pets in acquiescence.
Bags packed we head to the convention center. (Note: My abode is walking distance. Another cursed blessing, for over the next few days many PAX attendees will confuse our apartment building with a venue.)
We get inside, and here is my first moment of "We're exhibitors and need to pick up our badges." A nice enforcer does his best to lead us around, unfortunately the location has changed and no one was told. While we're hunting he asks us what our booth is, and we explain GeeksOUT and the Diversity Lounge. This is the first (but not last) time I'll hear "That's great! I love the Diversity Lounge." I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, cause it's kinda rad to be associated with a group that's got all the love flowing in their direction.
Steve goes on an epic quest for our badges, one that deserves a bardic retelling. In my insomniac haze the convention center has taken on the shape of a giant platformer game. There are so many levels (we'll be working on 6) that I imagine he must leap from landing to landing to unlock the dungeon that holds our promised sigils.
Eons later he returns, badges in hand. It's barely 8:30am. The convention opens at 10.
Upstairs we locate the Diversity 'Lounge'. For the rest of the con I will describe it to people as the Diversity 'Courtyard as You Enter The Merch Area on the 6th Floor at the Top of the Escalator'. This will be shortened to Diversity Courtyard by day 2. I am surprised that there are no bean bags for lounging. I'm not sure how one is supposed to lounge in the Diversity Courtyard without a place to sit.
Criticism 1: No bean bags in the Diversity Courtyard.
On the plus side we've snagged a table adjoined with two lovely Texans. They're selling rainbow pokeball shirts. By day 2 they will run out of shirts and on day 3 we will absorb their table, like a rainbow amoeba. Until then they are my new best friends, cause when I was lacking the funds to break a $50 they graciously helped me break a few twenties into smaller bills. I am loving the level of camaraderie here. There is no anger, no resentment, no silent judgement. Everyone comes over to say hi, to check out our wares, and to chat about the various causes and what our non-profits are all about.
On our other side is the Take This table. I've got a squishy spot in my heart for 'em cause of my own history with mental illness. Being near their table makes me feel so overwhelmingly safe that suddenly, for the first time at a con, I feel that nothing will go wrong. For the most part this is true. It's only when I stray from the Diversity Courtyard that shit gets weird.
Lesson 1: Leave the Diversity Courtyard at your own peril.
Ben, the benevolent ruler of the Diversity Courtyard, graces us with his presence. He is a magnanimous lord, one that I am quite proud to call our Diversity Sovereign. (Did I mention that I'm running on .5 hours of sleep? I'm sure in retrospect there was not a glowing crown floating above his head.)
We are informed that there was a mistake with the bathrooms (which we are essentially the welcome table to). They have marked both as "All Gender" and apparently only one was supposed to be All Gender, the other was meant to stay Single Gender. We're told someone might come by to fix it later. Personally, I think this is bullshit, but such language would not be polite in the presence of royalty. I ask our soveriegn what would happen if one of the peasantry were to replace the sign after it was removed. I have decided that, if I am going to get kicked out of this convention, it will be for putting an "All Gender" sign on a bathroom in the Diversity Courtyard.
His answer was kingly and proper, the sort you'd expect from one running such a venue.
In my mind I'm thinking "Just you try it convention overlords... I will superglue™ a sign to that frickin' door!"
Criticism 2: All bathrooms at a con should be gender neutral. It's flippin' exhausting to run all over creation trying to find the one place you're allowed to pee.
It's 10am and the floodgates open. For the rest of the day it's a whirlwind of swag selling, explaining GeeksOUT (most of the time I point at Steve or Tom, cause my ability to recall the English language has failed me) and watching the bathroom from the corner of my eye. No one comes to remove the sign.
Several times throughout the convention I visit the bathroom. Nothing happens. I pee, return to the table, and continue selling t-shirts, comics, and prints.
Lesson 2: All Gender bathrooms are places where people pee and poop and nothing special happens (unless you're Randy from South Park and break a world pooping record).
Occasionally someone wanders over and makes a noise of disgust when they see the bathrooms. I want to 'poke the bear' and find out why this bothers them so much, but I am representing GeeksOUT and will not tarnish our goodness with my petty bear poking. There will be plenty of time to taunt the wildlife later, when I'm not trying to raise money for a good cause. I do wish a silent 'PAX plague upon your houses' in their direction as they walk away.
The day ends at 6pm. I'm sure I've taken a break at some point, but can't remember much of anything except sitting at the table and talking to amazing people. The Diversity Courtyard attracts some of the kindest, warmest, most welcoming individuals I have ever encountered at a con. It is for them I do little dances and wave from across the room. I want to talk to everyone that wanders into our space. I'm still struggling to form a coherent sentence that correctly surmises GeeksOUT, but Steve and Tom are patient and take the time to correct me when I stumble. By the end of the con I'll get it, and next time it'll be like saying my own name.
I do go home and collapse before doing the one thing that night I really want to do: A backer's only panel for the Automata kickstarter.
However, I find that the industrial military complex has taken over the empty lot outside our bedroom window. There is literally a tank crushing things promoting a game about driving a tank (and crushing things). It is loud. Sleep does not come but I manage to zone out for 2 hours. I am more amused than anything. I wish I could shake the hand of the person that said "Let's promote our game with a tank! We'll put people in it and let 'em drive over stuff!" At one point they crush a porta-potty. It is glorious to behold.
Between crawling out of bed and heading back to PAX I manage to unhinge my jaw and swallow a pizza. I think myself badass like Lil, the Hunger. In reality I'm more like a hunched hobbit cramming bread and cheese in her mouth.
While on the Automata line I overhear a conversation about the urinals in the men's room. I can't help it, I just need to know if they're the same as the ones in the All Gender room in the Diversity Courtyard. We bond over shared laughter, cause yes, they certainly are. They are somewhere around knee/calf height and no one can figure out why. We make jokes about funnels and squatting to pee without falling over. All of this madness about who pees where has boiled down to this one shared moment: we all need to pee sometimes and who gives a fuck what your gender is when you do? Cause at the end of the day tiny urinals and toilets don't get along with exhausted con goers. We're all just struggling not to pee on the floor.
None of the men I was chatting with questioned how a female presenting person knew what the urinals in the men's room looked like.
The panel was great. Automata's first episode is looking fantastic. Unfortunately I can't recap it here, cause they asked that it stay under wraps until they're ready to release it.
I stumbled home and collapsed in a heap. Tomorrow would be here soon and PAX is a demanding mistress. I refuse to spend another day in an insomniac daze.
Day 2 and 3: 48 hours since sleep, my brain is officially jello.
Last night the corporate housing upstairs had a party. Good-bye sleep, my old friend. We shall meet again post-PAX (oh pretty please with sugar on top). I wish I could recap days 2 and 3 with their own uniqueness, but between the insomnia and caffeine they've blurred into one endless horizon. It's like that planet in Pitch Black with the multiple suns. PAX has become a land of never-ending light where only exhaustion might grant you a moment of rest.
Doesn't matter, cause today is a brand new day. Thankfully my shift starts at 12pm, so I've got 2 hours to wander the con and check out the various rooms. It is now that I notice something amiss with the more popular exhibitors, particularly Adult Swim and Star Trek VR experiences on the 6th floor. It's not unusual for a line to be capped early in the day, but I entered the convention center promptly at 10am. I went upstairs and somehow the line was already capped. By day 4 I'll figure out how, and boy is it a doozy. Until then I shrug off the mystery of the capped lines and decide to find myself an adventure.
By now I've lost all sense of space and time. I do, however, recall the shape and girth of one bikini clad cat-partner.
Adventure the First:
Welcome to the Exploding Kittens Non-Exploding Kittens booth, hosted by Cards Against Humanity. We begin our travels by meandering down a winding hallway. (For those not familiar with the Washington Convention Center: It is a series of levels and buildings attached by bridges and tunnels. You walk until you collapse, walk some more, and eventually get where you're going.)
Here we've managed to find a maze that promises riches (e.g. swag) if one is quick and clever. Instead of following the signs to swag we deviated, and followed the paw prints up a slope and around the bend. Here, friends, there be kittens. Living, breathing balls of fuzz that romp and tumble on adorable tiny paws. There is no swag here. There are no games (unless you count that giant cardboard cut-out of bikini cat). There is only a local non-profit and their giant tents full of the tiniest of kittens. A woman signs us up for 5 minutes of cat-bliss.
Promptly upon entering the tent all of the kittens run under my partner's kilt.
I, the loving and doting person that I am, reach under this kilt to bring the kittens back to the shared space. My partner is not pleased, for they enjoy the bounty of kitten that've decided to make their loins a new purr-fect home.
This goes on for what feels like ages. Kittens run under the kilt, I retrieve the kittens, apologize to the others in the tent trying to enjoy the kittens, rinse and repeat. Perhaps there is something magical about the kilt that I'm missing? Is it, perhaps, a kilt of kitten holding? Maybe this is where the kittens truly belong... but now our 5 minutes are up.
We say good-bye to the lil fuzzballs and continue on adventures. I check the kilt to make sure no kittens have stowed away (perhaps it was a ploy to freedom all along!)
Adventure the Second:
I high-five Deadpool.
What? That's not an adventure? Pfft, whatever. Haters gonna hate.
Adventure the Third:
I have come to know and worship the workers of our 2nd Floor Juicy Cafe.
They make the only food I will consume for the next 12 hours: a coffee/banana/peanutbutter smoothie. My hunger is mighty and I've no patience for chewing. They are tipped often and well, and no one gives them grief cause we all know they're working hard to keep us fed and caffeinated.
Adventure the Fourth:
Diversity Courtyard, my shift begins!
Now I shall tell you the tale of Strong Female Character, first of her name. Alright, it's not a person, but a t-shirt. This magnificent t-shirt we sell and you need to own.
We will sell out of the black SFC shirt by day 3, and the pink will be gone sometime in the morning hours of day 4. It is educational to watch people approach our table and have such strong opinions about the colors of this shirt. Some will only entertain the idea of black, while others must own the pink version. There are very few willing to accept one instead of the other when a size isn't available. I regret that we don't have more 2XL and 3XL sizes, cause I feel like a bad person when I have to tell a woman that we don't carry her size but would she like to try on an XL instead?
I know that feeling so well. You see an item of clothing and you love it dearly at first sight. You steel that part of yourself that knows it's probably not in your size... and you hope. You figure hey, this seems like the place that'll be ready to celebrate all body types so you should be okay. And you ask.
And I'm the asshat that has to say "sorry, we sold the only 3XL we brought with us and the only 2XL was sold yesterday." By the end of the con I will feel like a sizest jerk.
However, more often than not I get to make someone very happy. The response to Strong Female Character is so overwhelming that we have people from merch booths inside (Hi, Lone Shark!) coming out to buy our shirts. We've got men buying for wives that couldn't make it to the con... fathers buying for daughters... women buying for men that support the cause... and most of all we have women buying for themselves because they are fuckin' Strong. Female. Characters.
Stevonie buys one of our shirts!
Let me back-up. There needs to be a retelling of another adventure...
Adventure the Fifth:
Steve the gazelle and COSPLAY THAR SHE BLOWS!
Alright, so I didn't do my Ahab impression, but you get the idea. Part way through work Steve informs me that he's tweeting for GeeksOUT. He'd really like to tweet more fantastic cosplay, particularly of a genderbent or queer empowerment variety.
I take it upon myself to scan the room and point at any interesting cosplay I see. I'm proudest of my Stevonie sighting, but the amazing Toothless cosplayer is a close second.
And here is why I will forever think of Steve as a gazelle: He is fast. He's out, snapping photos, and back before I can process a single transaction. I'm chatting people up while he's pulling shirts and bringing up the register.
At one point Steve runs forth to get a photo of a cosplay (Pokemon methinks) and OMG STEVONIE IS WALKING OVER. They want one of our shirts but really need to hit the restroom first. They're carrying Rose Quartz's sword (to scale in case you're wondering, so it's /massive/; a good 4 feet tall). I offer to watch the sword, since our booth is basically bathroom adjacent.
Stevonie rests it on our pile of shirts and runs off. I feel like an honorary Gem, entrusted so with this beautiful work of art.
Steve returns, we chat with Stevonie when they return, and my heart melts a little the entire time. I will forever remember this moment as "The time I sold Stevonie a Strong Female Character shirt" - my life is now complete.
(Side note: The cosplayer dressed as Stevonie is a lovely person, and had a rockin' Korra cosplay on the last day. I hope to see much more of this cosplayer at other conventions, cause the world needs more beauty in it.)
Adventure the Sixth:
In the exhibitor hall there's a t-rex, to scale, that you can ride. It's from Studio Wildcard, promoting their ARK: Survival of the Fittest game.
If only the line wasn't a bajillion years long. I stare at it longingly, but instead of waiting in line I have a pleasant conversation with their staff photographer. The energy at this booth is great. They knew exactly what people would want to do when they hauled in a saddled t-rex. I don't demo the game, but I do watch people have a blast sitting on this mighty beast until the hall closes.
Criticism 3: Too many lines. At this point PAX feels like one never-ending line. I've lined up for demos, shopping, and getting in the convention center. I almost line up to get into my own apartment, and then I realize that line is for something else happening at the Magic Street Fair.
Adventure the Seventh:
Magic Street Fair.
Yup, pretty much describes itself. It's the street outside the Paramount that they've decked out in Kaladesh style. Wizards of the Coast went all out. They've got glassblowing, a giant deer puppet, and various tents with swag and famous MtG people hanging out. Inside the Paramount is draft heaven. It is here that my greatest adventure occurs:
I trade an Exploding Kitten Tacocat for a Lymirth Pinny. There is also the acquisition of a coveted Kemper PAX Aus pinny... but that's a tale best told over a campfire. There's no photographic evidence, and it's better whispered as rumor.
Want to know what all this pin/pinny nonsense is about? Join the madness, but we warned, the pinny will consume your soul.
Adventure the Eighth:
Cheese Wizards recognizes me as I walk by, and they hook me up with a tasty beverage and the last of the veggie style grilled cheeses. If you're ever in Seattle find this truck and rejoice. They have a literal "Ark of the Sauces" - all of the udders spew delicious goo.
Adventure the Ninth:
Sleep claims me, and lo it was good.
Note: There was a lot that happened over day 2 and 3. Some of it good, some of it not-so good. These are the moments that resonated with me the most. I love PAX, despite its flaws. I've met some of my best friends at this convention. I've had some of the weirdest (and worst) encounters at PAX as well. But I'm a woman that loves comics and games and works in tech. I've accept a degree of discomfort (for now) and will continue to insert my assitude wherever I damn well please. Cause yea, gamers can be dicks, but like Cartman says: "This is the way the world works, if you want to find some quality friends you have to wade through all the dicks fist." An oversimplification, but one I try to keep in mind whenever I encounter a certain degree of bullshittery at a convention. Like the dude that grabbed my lanyard of pins and demanded I trade with him. That sucked. I consider that Criticism the Final, but you know what? I still had a great time.
Day 4: The horn of reckoning.
It is this morning that I finally unravel the mystery of the capped lines. Since I've heard rumor that my exhibitor badge has the power to let me in early regardless of shift time, I've decided to try and meander over to the center half an hour early. I figure that would be plenty of time to stake out a room and make a mad dash when the con officially opens. (I know, it's shitty. And honestly? I'm really glad events conspired so that I couldn't use my badge that way.)
I get to the Adult Swim VR are and the line is capped. It's capped with exhibitors. I circle back to the Star Trek VR experience and it's almost capped. With exhibitors.
What the fuck is going on? There are people lined up, in the rain, thinking they've got a chance to do these great things, but exhibitors (some I'll learn were scheduled to work but are 'skipping shifts') have taken all the spots.
And the enforcers aren't stopping it.
I've never been an exhibitor before. I took it very seriously. I'm not here as an attendee, I'm here representing GeeksOUT, an organization that works to promote, rally and empower queer geeks. (Told ya I'd eventually get the motto down!)
One of the things driving this madness is the pinny hunt:
That's an exclusive pin you can only get if you play the Adult Swim VR game. I'll admit, it's pretty damn cool. I want it something fierce... but not at the expense of another person's enjoyment of their con experience.
The doors open, and I am close enough to the Adult Swim VR station that I hear the shouting as I hover nearby (yes, I'm still trying to wheedle my way into the line. No, I never said I was perfect.) This one dude is pissed that the line is already capped. Dropping f-bombs and I assume flailing about like a hydra in heat. A few people go outside to try and calm him down.
I wander off at this point. It is, after all, only a game.
There is likely a metaphor to be had here, for privilege (the haves and the have nots) and how our badges are the literal manifestation of what it means to walk through a space with power that is taken for granted. I don't feel so good about enjoying the con while wearing my exhibitor badge. I kinda wish they kept 'em under lock and key and swapped me out for a regular badge when I was off shift. I vow to never again attempt to use my exhibitor badge to get in early so I can partake of con festivities before others. It's work or nothing from this day forward. (Since this is the last day I'll have to make good on this promise next year.)
Don't let the picture fool you. By this point we're out of Strong Female Character shirts. There is much disappointment, but we get a lot of people signing up for the mailing list.
As compensation I offer my Hamster Hawk plushie for gentle stroking. "Would you like to pet the rainbow?" I ask my new friends. The answer is always yes.
The final highlight of this day is two-fold: We've sold enough swag that the mighty t-shirt tower now fits in one large duffel bag. I get to demo the Adult Swim VR experience at the last minute (all kudos to the diversity lounge, for it was that association that got me the golden hook-up) and sometime between day 3 and 4 I demo Thornwatch, the new Lone Shark game.
The day is done. We've packed and said out good-byes. A massive horn is sounded to usher out the last of the PAX attendees. (It sounds like a giant horn. It's probably playing over a speaker, but I wouldn't put it past them to climb to the top of Mount Rainier to send the geeks out in style.)
What's next? Glad you asked! Stay tuned for a review of the new Thornwatch game by Lone Shark and Penny Arcade.
And, once I've finished wrapping my head around the implications of Rick Sanchez suggesting I 'try out my new VR hands' with a certain motion then I might review that wicked cool VR experience too.
Now please forgive me, but there's a pizza with my name on it. If I'm not quick enough the Buddha Bear Bearington will turn it into floor pizza, and that'd be a terrible waste of delicious goo.
#PAX Prime
#Steven Universe
#Games
#cats