Then I saw the main room.
It was much more than anything I could ever imagine. It was the Louvre for comic book fans—a sort of mecca for a branch of pop culture, and it scared the hell out of me. The room was absolutely massive. One could’ve spent six hours exploring and not seen the same thing twice. On my way over to the booths, I was slammed into people dressed as superheroes, movie stars, cartoon characters, aliens—you name it! Making your way through a crowd of unfamiliar faces is more than overwhelming. You feel like suffocating from the crowds rather than simply just not being able to breathe. This year, over 100,000 people were in attendance; that’s enough to make anyone feel beat. There were people speaking languages from all over the world, and I think one of them might’ve been Klingon. People were asking to take pictures with so-called other “famous people” who were completely unrecognizable to me. My two friends couldn’t deal with staying in one spot for too long, and while they were customizing their map with routes of the day’s adventures, my head began to spin. Too many people, too much noise, too much unfamiliarity. I couldn’t take it. It was too much.
That’s when I ran into a man dressed as a giant Pikachu. Though I was startled, he gave me a hug. Great, could this day get any weirder? Yes. Well, sort of.
My friends dragged me around everywhere. The people in the booths we should’ve been working in were there to promote their love for comics, to sell collectables and other merchandise. My friends went from booth to booth, not to mention from concession stand to panel to bathroom and back again. All I could do was watch and observe people drool over merchandise. Generally, everyone was there to have a good time.
Then it hit me. Yeah—that’s right! People are here to have a good time. So why am I judging these comic-book fans? Don’t they deserve to indulge? Everyone was so happy to be there, people came from great distances to have a fantastic weekend with others who share their interests. Most San Diego locals call this event “nerdfest” and yell at people on the sidewalk dressed in costumes. But it shouldn’t matter; these people are here to have a good time. They traveled a long way to have a great time with people just like them. At home people consider Comic-Con fans to be, “nerds.” But how can one be a nerd when thousands of people come together every year to share their love for these things, even if they are things that society deems as “un-cool?”
On the trolley ride home, my friends took a look at the overpriced merchandise they bought and all the autographs they received. People on the trolley were still excited; the novelty had yet to wear off. However, my feet were dead.
“That was fun after all!” I said, yawning and kicking my feet up against the chair in front of me.