BY DRAKE MOSS, 10
So, you’re thinking about going to an anime convention sometime in the near future?
Well, let me warn you about the good, the bad, and the downright pitiful things that are today’s anime conventions.
You start off your day by waking up hideously early to get your cosplay on and to make sure your costume is on point. You go ahead and take a selfie or two, since you look so great. You do your makeup, you don the costume that you worked so hard on. So far, your day is destined to go fabulously. You don’t walk out the door, you stride – you strut – you parade. (Ooohs and ahhhs from the audience.) You chuckle to yourself in the morning sunlight and say, “What could go wrong?”
And of course, here is where things get interesting.
You drive downtown to the convention center. “Wow, look!” You cry. “More people in cosplay! How cool!” You walk in, and your eyes widen 400%. The line to get your convention badge is insanely long, and you get to go to the back! (At least you got here before your friends did.)
You park at the end of the ungodly line; you stand and wait; you wait some more. Next thing you know, you’ve aged 30 years and your costume doesn’t fit the way it used to. Scratching your newly grown beard, you cheer up a little knowing that you can finally get to the stuff you came for in the first place! (Audience cheers madly!)
On your way to the dealer’s room, a person stops you, saying that your cosplay is really cool and they’d like to get a picture of you. Inside, you start panicking, because someone recognized your costume! Outside you let out a calm, cool “Sure.” That happy little moment you get from posing for that person makes aging 30 years at least a little worth it.
After your tiny moment of bliss, you’ve finally arrived at the dealer’s room. As you wander mindlessly, something catches your eye. Getting closer, you see it in all its cuteness: a plushie from your favorite anime. You eagerly reach out to grab it, and then you see its price tag… (Audience: Awwwwwwwwwwwwww…..) Now, you set a spending budget of $20, no more! (But it’s so cute, and so $35.) Well…. You’ve been good lately… why not?
“Okay,” you tell yourself firmly as you continue through the dealer’s room. “I really can’t spend any more money.” Absolutely. No more – hey, what’s that? A sign with a sale on it: “3 pins for $5!!!” You think, “That’s a really good deal, in exclamation marks alone.” So naturally, you buy 30 pins.
Two hours later, you realize that you’re holding objects you don’t remember buying. Quick double-take, then it hits you – “I don’t remember buying this poster!” You cry to yourself a little as you realize that you have a problem. You try to avoid the cool stuff, but you can’t! You need money for food. But cool stuff…
Whatever. You don’t need to eat this month. (Audience cheers approvingly.)
After adding a super cool drawing to your haul, you repeat sternly to yourself what has become more a hollow mantra: “I…really…can’t…spend…any more money!”
Then you black out.
You wake up the day after the convention. You peel yourself off the pile of plushies on your bed that you could swear wasn’t there before. You look around, and you see the damage: 30 pins, 10 plushies, 4 posters, 3 sets of playing cards, 7 drawings, 3 backpacks, a binder, and 2 clocks. (Hushed silence. The audience holds its breath.)
You enter the stages of denial. “There’s no way I bought all this stuff,” you try to convince yourself. “I don’t even like this anime!” You start lying to yourself. That doesn’t work. You try a new tactic. “Actually, this stuff is kinda cool.” “Yeah, that’s the spirit!” “Food is overrated. You could stand to drop a few pounds, anyway."
As you finally embrace insanity and mass amounts of debt, sitting on the floor, tearing up, you sigh. Oh well. (The audience left 45 minutes ago. Empty theater.) No money. No laugh track. A bed full of plushies.
Totally worth it.
So, you’re thinking about going to an anime convention sometime in the near future?
Well, let me warn you about the good, the bad, and the downright pitiful things that are today’s anime conventions.
You start off your day by waking up hideously early to get your cosplay on and to make sure your costume is on point. You go ahead and take a selfie or two, since you look so great. You do your makeup, you don the costume that you worked so hard on. So far, your day is destined to go fabulously. You don’t walk out the door, you stride – you strut – you parade. (Ooohs and ahhhs from the audience.) You chuckle to yourself in the morning sunlight and say, “What could go wrong?”
And of course, here is where things get interesting.
You drive downtown to the convention center. “Wow, look!” You cry. “More people in cosplay! How cool!” You walk in, and your eyes widen 400%. The line to get your convention badge is insanely long, and you get to go to the back! (At least you got here before your friends did.)
You park at the end of the ungodly line; you stand and wait; you wait some more. Next thing you know, you’ve aged 30 years and your costume doesn’t fit the way it used to. Scratching your newly grown beard, you cheer up a little knowing that you can finally get to the stuff you came for in the first place! (Audience cheers madly!)
On your way to the dealer’s room, a person stops you, saying that your cosplay is really cool and they’d like to get a picture of you. Inside, you start panicking, because someone recognized your costume! Outside you let out a calm, cool “Sure.” That happy little moment you get from posing for that person makes aging 30 years at least a little worth it.
After your tiny moment of bliss, you’ve finally arrived at the dealer’s room. As you wander mindlessly, something catches your eye. Getting closer, you see it in all its cuteness: a plushie from your favorite anime. You eagerly reach out to grab it, and then you see its price tag… (Audience: Awwwwwwwwwwwwww…..) Now, you set a spending budget of $20, no more! (But it’s so cute, and so $35.) Well…. You’ve been good lately… why not?
“Okay,” you tell yourself firmly as you continue through the dealer’s room. “I really can’t spend any more money.” Absolutely. No more – hey, what’s that? A sign with a sale on it: “3 pins for $5!!!” You think, “That’s a really good deal, in exclamation marks alone.” So naturally, you buy 30 pins.
Two hours later, you realize that you’re holding objects you don’t remember buying. Quick double-take, then it hits you – “I don’t remember buying this poster!” You cry to yourself a little as you realize that you have a problem. You try to avoid the cool stuff, but you can’t! You need money for food. But cool stuff…
Whatever. You don’t need to eat this month. (Audience cheers approvingly.)
After adding a super cool drawing to your haul, you repeat sternly to yourself what has become more a hollow mantra: “I…really…can’t…spend…any more money!”
Then you black out.
You wake up the day after the convention. You peel yourself off the pile of plushies on your bed that you could swear wasn’t there before. You look around, and you see the damage: 30 pins, 10 plushies, 4 posters, 3 sets of playing cards, 7 drawings, 3 backpacks, a binder, and 2 clocks. (Hushed silence. The audience holds its breath.)
You enter the stages of denial. “There’s no way I bought all this stuff,” you try to convince yourself. “I don’t even like this anime!” You start lying to yourself. That doesn’t work. You try a new tactic. “Actually, this stuff is kinda cool.” “Yeah, that’s the spirit!” “Food is overrated. You could stand to drop a few pounds, anyway."
As you finally embrace insanity and mass amounts of debt, sitting on the floor, tearing up, you sigh. Oh well. (The audience left 45 minutes ago. Empty theater.) No money. No laugh track. A bed full of plushies.
Totally worth it.