By the next morning, I was up and desperately wanted coffee and a cigarette. Typically after a dose of pleasuring myself to a mental fantasy, I lit up but the hotel was completely non smoking. So, I got up and dressed then headed for a much deserved and needed smoke.
Amazing, one moment it was warm and the next damned cold. I stepped out of the lobby into chilly morning air. Not too many smokers then, most were likely still passed out from getting wasted the night before at the bar. I had no idea what I would do for breakfast but right then, all I knew was I had my cigarette and enjoyed it.
More arrivals started, people dressed to impress in Cosplay and all sorts of different individuals. There were families also. Yet, the people I witnessed, they headed to the main entrance of the convention hall where I would eventually, near 4 pm, meet up with Jake and Sarah and a few others I met. The reality hadn't settled in yet, my nerves weren't troubled. I just simply enjoyed my cig then returned into the hotel.
I ended up eating leftover pizza nuked in the provided in room microwave. I used the in room coffee pot to make my dose of caffeine the contemplated on what to wear. Yeah, I had the outfits pretty much picked out but which one to start with.
I had gone to great lengths to have a couple special tee shirts made honoring the Actor. But there was one outfit that I was anxious to wear either Saturday or Sunday, my nod to a special fan fiction vixen I created specifically for the Actor's famous vampire character. I wanted two photo ops, one normal me and the other vamped out me.
The outfit of choice was made and into the shower I dove. And by the time I got out of the shower reality started to sink in.
Yes, finally, the reality of where I was and whom I was about to meet started to inflict my brain along with causing a slight churning in my nervous gut. I was close to having my dream come true. All I could think was, my childhood dream would soon become realized. I was soon to meet my high school heartthrob. And my mind screamed, holy shit!
I had no one there to tell me if I looked good. No smart assed kid to say I looked okay for being old and constantly remind me that my celebrity of choice was also old. There was no one to inform me if the white pencil skirt went with the black specially designed Fright Night tee shirt with the neck purposely widened to give a nod to the good old 80s. Or someone to tell me if the black ankle boots worked well with the chosen ensemble. Or if the white fedora was too much with the outfit. Or if my hair gathered in a low shoulder draping side ponytail was good enough.
Who was gonna tell me that my make up was appropriate or too much?
All those worries seemed to escalate the rising nervousness that reality was about to strike me hard once I stepped foot on the convention floor. I was alone in all that. Yeah, I made a few chums but they had their own celebs to meet. There was no one to hold my hand and drag me toward the signing table. I was left with only my own two wobbly legs covered in a black stockings.
The hotel room was nearly a shambles by the time I got myself to make up my mind that I was dressed my best. The last thing needed was my gifts for the actor and what I brought to be signed.
In that mess I unburied my portfolio of sorts. Every bit of artwork, fan fiction designed graphic images, and each and every one of the collected images I enhanced were stored in that diary of sorts. Yeah, some might say I was obsessed with the Actor but truthfully I admired him and all His performances. He had an extensive career with I truly respected. Also, without Him and Fright Night I honestly believed that my creative and artistic nature would never have been discovered. To me, He deserved my admiration and earned it.
I made my choice for the signed item, a picture I personally captured and enhanced from my favorite scenes from His film Forced March which I believed should have gotten him into the higher ranks of Hollywood. He was undoubted an underrated actor with an amazing but just as underrated talent. And, lets face it, damned good looking to boot.
With a deep breath, I trotted out the door with my nerves bundled and items stashed cloth purse draped over my shoulder. There was no denying that when I got closer to that dream coming true, my nerves would likely tailspin. The ride down the elevator, the nerves raised. The steps towards the lobby, the nerves escalated. And out those lobby doors I went straight to the left and lit up a nerve relaxing cigarette.
We had to line up early though the RIP guests were brought to the head of the line. We needed to turn in our receipts for our purchased tickets then get our in and out bands along with our RIP badges that granted us access to special events without issues. But I needed at least a few cigarettes before I shoved myself in the direction of something spectacular.
I chit chatted with a few smokers while standing out there where the weather got sorta crappy with a chill and drizzle, a couple were actually volunteers at the convention,. Not bad enough with trembles from nervousness, I got chilled too.
I was praised for my fedora as it was stylishly tilted atop my head.
Thankfully, Jake and Sarah marched out the lobby doors and joined me for a cigarette. We had to walk around the outside of the hotel to get to the entrance for the convention center, so we strolled along puffing away on our cigarettes. They found it humorous how nervous I was getting and poked fun at me which included I should have stopped at the bar first for a calming shot of booze.
We finished out cigs under the cover of the canopy at the convention center's entrance. Nearly every person who passed gave a hello. It seemed the convention folks were all cheery and happy which helped ease me into the experience.
Our cigs finished, we entered through the glass doors where a line already developed. We had nearly two hours before our RIP entrance into the convention was granted. We stood in the line for RIP with our receipts in hand while chatting it up with other line goers.
At one point Jake caught sight of that one smoker actor and loudly commented, "Chucky shoulda killed ya!"
I nearly choked trying to hold back my laughter as Sarah just belted hers out.
Our line moved as the none RIP guests arrived and piled into a separate line. We reached our destination in about 20 minutes and a bright pink band was permanently put around my wrist and my funky RIP badge pinned at my hip.
After we were official, we headed out the doors again to not enjoy the cold but enjoy cigarettes. At the moment, my jitters faded into cold ones as my newly made friends kept my mind at ease with more of their convention stories. We were joined by others and the stories started flying in every direction with tons of laughter which also eased my nerves.
Cigarette after cigarette and celebrity gossip and convention stories, our group held close. Of course we had to take a bathroom break which meant a trek to the hotel lobby.
I discovered the bathrooms were immaculate as well. I attempted a selfie and texted it to my kid who replied, "Damn, Mama, you and your damned fedoras!" I just loved my kid.
Selfies became the norm there at the convention, everywhere you went people were taking group selfies. And the elaborately dressed started to show up as well, costumes galore from all different genres. It was like a parade of sorts happening everywhere and I loved it.
We all again gathered before the convention center as the time grew nearer and I felt those pesky nerves begin to rise.
We entered back through the doors and headed to the stairs and descended upward. We were sent to the head of the line with the other RIP guests while the none RIP guests had to stand and wait longer. RIP guests got in nearly an hour before the actual convention doors opened up. And I stood on those stairs with my brain a mess.
