Dear Lord, No

I made a wrong turn while trying to get to the convention center parking lot and ended up on Stout Street. And while I made a series of right turns (wish I could say that it was going widdershins, but no) it was like I could see into the future in the nearly immobile line that wound all the way around the convention center. A future where I would be sunburned to a beef jerky like texture by the blazing Colorado sun while waiting in line to enter a comic convention while wearing an outfit reminiscent of Dr. Sheldon Cooper. I chose to reject that future and go home to have a frosty ale instead. Which I will quaff shortly and while I am disappointed about not going to the convention I think I made the right choice.

Edited: To be more lyrical.

See That Was Nice

In the sense that it was fun, not that I think that I such a nice person. I drove my car back down near to the convention center, found a parking spot, and kept company with a nice Dr. Who fan who was waiting in line. It was fun to do something like that and next year I might plan guerrilla entertainment for the people waiting in line. Cost, $0.55 for parking plus two miles worth of gas. And now I am home again. But gosh Comic Con needs better line management. Glad I was not down there since 3pm waiting like she was, though, because I still would not have gotten in and I would not have met her if I had not gone home.