When I got to the booth, the aftermath of a giveaway was
gone. The telltale signs of huddled victors
sharing or bragging of their successes were missing. The clumps of upset people
begging, ranting, or even crying were absent.
I knew I was too late. The trial had gone cold.
I texted back to the friend that I didn’t see a line for the
wristbands. He told me I had to
ask. Yeah. Right. Ask. This is SDCC. You don’t ask for a
wristband. So, I turned around looking
for him. I knew he was spying on me and laughing. But what the heck, I walked into the booth and
asked. The guy behind the booth asked
why I asked. I told him a buddy told me
to. He looked down (he was no poker player)
to check if any were left. I knew at
that instant I wasn’t on Candid Camera and I was getting a wristband. Then he
gave me a nod. A knowing nod. A nod that
meant something. A nod that most people could interpret and act upon. A nod
that went over my head.
